All Those Years Ago
by WritePassion
Summary: Michael, home on leave from the CIA, has to decide if Fiona is his past, or if she will be part of his future. Sam, still adjusting to life without looking over his shoulder, finds a ghost that he's not sure he wants to reconcile.
1. Chapter 1

_Burn Notice: I don't own it, I just like to play with it._

**All Those Years Ago**

By WritePassion

"Mikey!"

After all he'd been through, the sound of Sam's voice calling him was like music to Michael Westen's ears. He scanned the travelers moving toward the main concourse ahead of him, and like a beacon on a lighthouse, he saw the graying head above all the others. "Sam!" He waved over his head, and Sam repeated the gesture while wearing a grin that showed bright against his tan. Everything faded as he focused on his best friend, including the memory of several brutal days of travel it took to get home. He wasn't sure if anyone would be waiting for him, but he should have known better. Sam would know, somehow, and he would never let him down. The crowd parted enough for Michael to push through, and he stopped a few feet away from Sam, frowning. Fiona wasn't there. He tried to hide his disappointment by focusing on his friend and smiling for him, but it was a useless gesture.

Sam knew exactly what was going through his head. His mouth turned down and he said, "I'm sorry, Mike. Fi's still mad at you. We've tried everything we can think of to try to convince her that it was your only choice to go back to the Agency, but she doesn't believe it." He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Where'd she go," Michael asked, swallowing a lump of regret.

"Last time I spoke with Fi she was in the Keys. If it's any consolation, I don't think she's going to leave Florida. She doesn't wanna get that far from your home base." Sam's eyes locked on his. "Fiona loves you, man, and as much as she fights it, she knows it's futile. She'll never get over you, and she'll never be happy until you two are together. Forever."

"We're not..."

Sam cut him off. "Oh, don't give me that speech about you two not being good for each other. That's a crock of bull, and you know it!" He poked Michael in the chest with his index finger. "Face it, pal, the best years we've all had have been when you and Fi were together with me, and Jesse, on the fringe. Even on the run last year, you gotta admit, it was good between you two."

"I'm afraid I wasn't very good to her for a long time."

"There's always a way to make up for it. If you can guarantee to Fi that you're done with the CIA, and you prove it, I know she'll give you that chance."

"But I"m not done yet."

"When you are, then we work on Operation Fi-Union." Sam gave him a reassuring smile. "Now, come on, let's go get your luggage and I'll take you over to your Ma's. She's dying to see you."

"I'm kind of surprised she didn't come along." His head was constantly on the move, sliding left, right, and all around as he walked beside Sam. Being aware of his surroundings had become so ingrained in Michael that he couldn't go anywhere without employing his wariness.

"She had a water aerobics class with Tina. You remember her? That old lady in county records that we almost got fired?"

"Oh yeah, I remember her."

"Tina and your Ma have been hanging out a lot since you left. Maddie's been a good influence on her, and Tina keeps her from getting depressed and lonely." Sam paused and turned toward the carousel where bags tumbled off a conveyor onto the moving belt. "I've been keeping in touch with Maddie, and Elsa and I have had her over a few times, but having you home for awhile, it's gonna be great for her."

"She's not going to the doctor all the time, is she?" Michael couldn't recall paying for any of her bills recently, not like before he was burned and came home seven years ago.

Sam laughed. "Just wait, Mike. You'll see how strong she is now. She doesn't need all that crap."

"Good." He homed in on a bag coming around a curve and grabbed the handle as it meandered past him. "This is it, Sam. My only bag."

"Great! Now let's try to get out of this crowd." Sam led the way and Michael followed, and soon they found themselves outside the mass of bodies. Sam rubbed the underside of his nose with his fist. "Dang, Mike, how'd you handle that... smell? I think the Agency oughtta give you a medal for putting up with that!"

Michael replied and took a quick sniff of his suit jacket. "I think the only thing I can do is burn this."

Sam risked leaning over and getting a whiff, and he grimaced. "Yeah. Put that on your expense report. New Armani suit."

"Sam, how did you know I was coming home? I didn't call you."

With a smile, Sam replied, "Dani Pearce told me what flight you were coming in on. I couldn't very well abandon you to the psycho cabbies in this town, now, could I?"

"Thanks, Sam. I've had enough harrowing experiences lately."

Michael was pleased that he and Sam didn't have to go far outside the terminal to reach their transportation. Sam parked the Cadillac in the short term lot and found a space close to the entrance. His bag wasn't very big, but he'd stuffed it. It was heavy, which Sam discovered when he picked it up to throw into the trunk.

As he slammed the lid, Sam asked with a teasing grin, "What, trying to give me a hernia, Mikey?"

Grinning, Michael replied, "It's all those souvenirs I obtained in Pakistan."

Sam's eyebrow went up. "Souvenirs... for Fi? How'd you get 'em past customs?"

"No, it's not for Fi. Before I go home, we have to make a stop at the Agency office and drop off the presents I brought back." Michael opened the passenger side door and got into Sam's car. "Let's get this over with, fast."

Sam looked at him sideways. "You don't have anyone following you who's interested in your little tchotchkes, do you? Because I'd really hate to have to get into a chase and risk cracking up the Caddy. Elsa will kill me."

"Not that I know of. Let's just make sure that doesn't happen."

Sam started the car and backed out of the parking space. "You don't have to ask me twice, Brother!"

Watching the scenery pass, Michael realized that he'd taken it all for granted. Living on airplanes and hiding in hotels with hard beds and scratchy linens, chasing and being chased, made him appreciate what he'd left behind. He was actually looking forward to seeing his mother. Maybe it was some strange psychosis settling in after so many years of spying. When he stepped out of Sam's car and stood on the concrete driveway at her house, he saw her through the back screen door. She was bent over at the waist pulling clothes from the dryer, her body angled so he saw her profile, intent on what she was doing.

Michael slammed the door and she shot up straight as if the sound had been a gunshot, and she turned toward the screen. From his position nearing the door he noted the momentary shock and caution in her eyes that scanned the landscape until they lit on him. Then they widened.

"Michael, honey?" She stammered the question, dropping the dry clothes into a wash basket and pushing the screen open. Her feet tripped down the stairs and she launched herself into his arms. "Oh, Michael! I can't believe it's you. You're here!" She blubbered into his stinky suit and didn't care.

"It's me, Ma. I'm home for a little while." He nested his chin into the crook of her neck and basked in the tightness of her arms around his back. He hadn't felt a hug that strong from her in years.

"How long," she asked as he pulled away far enough to see his face. One hand rose and caressed his cheek where the remnants of a bruise still lay beneath the layers of skin.

"Two weeks. Maybe three, depending on what the Agency thinks of the delivery I made before Sam and I got here." He smiled. "It doesn't matter, Ma. I'm here for now, so let's make the best of the time we have."

Maddie looked worried as she declared, "Fiona's in the Keys. Did Sam tell you?"

He nodded. "I might have to go down there and find her. Alone." He hugged his mother and said, "But not before we spend some time together."

"We'll talk about that, honey. First, you need to get out of those clothes and take a bath. You reek!"

Michael laughed. "If you'd spent seventeen hours wedged in a seat like cattle on a plane with a bunch of ripe Pakistanis, you wouldn't smell so rosy either."

With a wide grin on her face and a gentle hand, she pushed him toward the back door. "Go on, get in there!"

"I'm, uh, gonna take off, Mike. Elsa and I have a charity thing we have to go to tonight. She wants me to wear my old uniform," Sam reported with a snort.

"Does it still fit?" Michael's eyebrow rose as he quickly assessed his friend's frame.

"Of course. It's just been awhile since I've been in full dress, you know?"

Michael stopped and turned half way to address him. "You'll do fine, Sam. See you tomorrow?"

"Come for breakfast, if you're not too hung over," Maddie teased.

"I'll behave myself," Sam promised as he pointed at Michael. "And I'll see you tomorrow morning, eight thirty, nine o'clock?"

"Nine," Michael replied. "I think after I get cleaned up I'll want to crash until tomorrow morning. Sorry, Ma."

"That's okay," Maddie said, her face glowing with happiness. "I'm just glad you're home. See you tomorrow, Sam!"

Sam let out a sigh and held Michael back as Maddie turned to go inside. "It's good to have you home, Brother. Let's hope it's for longer than a couple weeks."

"Thanks, Sam." He flashed a smile unlike anything that anyone had seen on his face in awhile.

"You won't let anyone see it, but I know you. You're just about burnt out, and getting away from the CIA is the only way to save yourself." Michael didn't reply, but Sam knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't acknowledge it, even to his best friend, that he was long past tired. "I'll see you tomorrow, pal. Get some rest."

Michael followed Maddie inside, carrying his suitcase. He left it on the washer, gave Sam one last wave, and disappeared inside. Sam hurried to the car. As he drove back to the mansion, he noticed that the interior bore a slight stench of sweat and curry, and he made a mental note to have the car detailed before Elsa got in it. Good thing they were taking the limo to the charity event that night.

* * *

Sam had his reservations about wearing the old dress uniform, but it looked fine and so did he once he got into it. He was surprised how good it felt, fitting like a second skin. At least he wasn't wearing his whites, which reminded him of the last time when he found himself on trial and falling from grace. Brushing aside the bad memory, he smiled as he slipped the last button through its hole, catching sight of Elsa in her backless silver dress that swished and sparkled with every move. She moved across the room and put her earring in, all the while watching him with eyes smoldering. He was hot tonight, and it had nothing to do with the temperature outside.

"Aren't you glad I had you go for that fitting," she said as she captured him from behind, sliding her arms around and over his body, clasping her hands over his chest, trapping him in bonds he would never want to break. Her chin rested on his shoulder while her nose tickled the fine hairs at the back of his neck.

"I don't think this uniform has ever fit this good." His smile widened and he attempted to turn away from the mirror. "Be careful. You'll get lipstick on my shoulder, and then what will all the other women say?"

Elsa laughed, allowing him to turn to face her as she replied, "They'll know I branded you, that's what, and you're coming home with me."

As her hands roamed up his chest, taking her time sliding up to his shoulders, the engagement ring on her finger twinkled in the dressing room lights. By her standards it wasn't much, but the fact that it came honestly from his heart made it more precious than a ten carat bauble encrusted with diamonds. He kissed her, the fresh lipstick sealing their lips together. Later, she would complain in a half-hearted tone, and he would use his handkerchief to wipe away the remnants with a sly smile still on his lips. At the moment, neither of them cared.

"Sir, madame, the car is waiting." Reginald, the English butler, announced from just outside the open doors.

"We better get going," Elsa said when she broke the contact and slipped out of his grasp. She reached for her wrap that lay over the chair back, but Sam was faster. He plucked it up in two fingers and shook it out before he draped it over her shoulders. The look she gave him sent a tingle down to his toes, and his soft sigh came on a hope that she would never stop looking at him like that as the years went by.

"So, what is this for again," Sam asked as the two settled into the back of the limousine.

"It's a scholarship fundraiser for the kids of soldiers who are overseas." She shook her head. "Whenever I think of those poor kids, some of whom have both parents serving, and how much they miss..."

Talking around a lump in his throat, Sam spoke in a soft tone. "You don't have to tell me what that's like. I know."

Elsa must have detected the underlying anger in Sam's delivery, because she looked at him in the dim light coming through the windows. "I'm sorry, honey. I know you told me what it was like with your dad."

"It's okay. What's done is done, and I wouldn't be who I am today if he hadn't... abandoned... Mom and me." He turned his head away, and with false cheer said, "Hey, look. We're here already."

All talk of his childhood vanished as the car pulled up to the curb and the driver let Sam out. He held his hand out for Elsa, and she took it, squeezing it in a silent apology for uprooting sad memories. Photographers and onlookers huddled behind scarlet ropes, hoping to get a glimpse of a celebrity. They screamed and jumped in their excitement, but when they saw what they perceived as an ordinary couple, the volume lowered considerably. Still, the photographers' flashes lit up the red carpet and captured the smiles and looks that Sam and Elsa meant only for each other.

In the time he and Elsa had been together, Sam knew how this worked. After helping her onto the curb, he held his right arm at an angle. She slipped her hand into the crook of his bent arm and he walked beside her into the hotel where the event was taking place. It was a competitor, but on a night like this, such details were insignificant. Some people in the audience knew he wasn't a celebrity, but they recognized the stripes and decorations and nodded in respect. Sam nodded in return as he trotted up the stairs with Elsa, slipped his cap from his head, and entered through the wide open door with her.

Waiters wandered through the crowd with flutes of champagne. He grabbed one for Elsa and handed it to her and said, "I'm going to the bar for a mojito."

"You do that," Elsa replied with a smile. "I'll be over there talking with the mayor and his wife."

"Great." The moment she walked away, the smile melted from his face. He hated shindigs like this, and if it weren't for the fact that it was a fundraiser for service members' kids, he wouldn't be there.

"Commander Axe? Which moron promoted you?"

Sam turned, and recognition dawned in his eyes. "Lieutenant Dave Lenz." A glance at the man's epaulets, and he corrected himself. "Lieutenant Commander Lenz. Wow, long time no see." He reached out to shake his old friend's hand and was surprised to see a prosthetic come at him, but he hid it well, grasped the hook and shook it. "I haven't seen you since..."

"Afghanistan, when we were working with that spy, West something or other," Lenz replied.

"Yeah." Sam frowned, but then he pasted on a smile, because he really was glad to see him again. "Looks like that IED didn't do ya in."

Lenz barked out a laugh and reached for his drink. Sam picked up his, and they moved away from the bar. "Are you kidding? They couldn't make an IED that could kill me. Just made me a lefty, that's all." He grinned and touched his glass to the one Sam held in his left hand. "To lefties."

"The only right-minded people in the world," Sam finished with a grin and took a long sip. "So, you retired?"

"Of course. I've been out of it for ten years now. I couldn't handle desk duty anymore, so now I work on this charity helping with logistics for events." He nodded at Sam's hardware. "Nice to see one of us made it farther up the ranks."

Sam's smile widened. "It wasn't all that great, I can guarantee you that."

Lenz swallowed and said, "I heard what happened, from a friend. You don't know him. It sounded like you got railroaded, buddy."

Sam shrugged. "That's the way it goes." Feeling uncomfortable with the conversation's flow, Sam glanced around looking for Elsa. "Lot of guys like us here."

"It's probably guilt. Guys who had families stuck at home and they missed all those years with their kids. So they throw their money at the next generation." Lenz drained his glass. "I was smart. Never got hitched, never had any kids. No guilt. What about you?"

"No kids. I'm engaged," Sam replied, his eyes locking onto someone in the crowd. He was older, in his seventies, wearing a civilian suit with a military haircut. He laughed at something his conversation companion said, and for a moment, he appeared younger, as if forty years had been erased from his face. "Dad?"

"Huh? Sam, what'd you say?"

Lenz's question brought him back to reality. Sam shook his head and replied, "It's crazy. I saw some old guy who... never mind." He looked back where he'd seen him, but he was gone, walking away toward a woman who was just as old but he knew for a fact she wasn't his mother. It was his imagination playing tricks on him.

"Woah, look at that hottie over there." Lenz rubbed shoulders with Sam and jutted his chin in the woman's direction. "She's giving me the eye. See that?"

Sam turned and saw Elsa smiling at him, and he laughed. "I hate to burst your bubble, Dave, but that's my fiancee."

"No way!" Lenz stared and his brows furrowed.

"Way. And I'm guessing by the look on her face that she either wants to introduce me to the Mayor, or dance. I haven't quite figured out that smile yet." Sam grinned. "But I've got lots of time to work on it."

Lenz laughed and tapped Sam on the back with his prosthetic. "You go have fun. We'll have to catch up some other time."

"Sure." Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "Here's my contact info."

"Thanks, Sam. Here's mine." Lenz dropped a card into Sam's palm. "Talk to you later, pal. And hey, see if your honey'll be willing to save a dance for me, huh?"

"Oh, you can dance now, huh?" Sam teased.

"I haven't broken any toes in awhile now, I promise."

Sam laughed, and he remembered the good times with the SEAL team taking shore leave in exotic, and sometimes not so exotic, locations. They'd left a lot of broken hearts behind, but only Dave could honestly say he'd left one girl with a cast on her foot. Sam waved and turned back toward where Elsa waited. He saw the mystery man again out of the corner of his eye, and when his gaze lingered too long, he ran into someone.

"Sorry." He skirted around the woman and continued forward to meet Elsa, ignoring the ghost in the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

If Michael thought he could just settle into home and deal with Fiona later, he was sorely mistaken. From the moment he heard her name, a spark ignited in his brain. It grew into a flame that would surely turn him to cinders if he didn't do something about it. He was trying to be considerate of his mother and give her a little of his time, but even she knew he was distracted by the real love of his life.

After a hot relaxing bath that sloughed off the dirt from his travels, he sat down to supper at the dining room table. He glanced at his plate. "Macaroni and cheese?"

Maddie smiled, her eyes crinkled in joy, happy to be cooking for him. "It was always your favorite, Michael. I thought maybe you'd like something... comforting." She felt his discomfort and added, "It's a recipe I got from a cooking channel. Sam liked it. I made it when you had him babysitting me that one time." She let out a breath, growing impatient with his hesitation, and jumped out of her seat and reached for his plate at the same time.

Michael nearly stabbed her with his fork as he was about to take a bite. "Ma! Please, it's okay. Mac and cheese is fine," he assured her and gave her a smile to prove it. He watched her as she sat in her chair and he picked up a forkful. He chewed on it, and nodding with a genuine smile, he said, "This is good, Ma. Thanks."

The sunny smile returned to Maddie's face. "I'm so glad you like it, Michael!"

While they ate she talked about the activity in the neighborhood, but Michael said very little other than a comment now and then. His thoughts were stuck on Fiona. He didn't need to close his eyes to see her face, remembering the look of betrayal behind the tears the last time he saw her. Her pain struck him in the heart. Didn't she know that? It was't a real choice. If he'd said 'no', they would have been separated forever. At least this way they had a chance to reunite.

He wiped his mouth on the napkin and set it beside his plate. He'd cleaned it of everything, including the steamed broccoli. "That was really good, Ma." He leaned back in his chair, patting his stomach. "But now, I'm beat. Jet lag and all that, you know."

"Of course, honey. I put your suitcase upstairs and hung your clothes and put things away in the dresser, so you don't have to worry about that. There are clean sheets on your bed." Her smile brimmed with emotion and she blinked. "I'm so happy you're home. I just wish it could be for longer. For... forever."

"Ma," Michael groaned as he stood. She met him on his side of the table and he hugged her. "It's almost over."

"Almost? What does that mean? Is it a month, or two, or a year?" Her voice was husky with emotion when she asked.

He rubbed her shoulders as he replied, "A few months, six at the most. But I can't guarantee that, and you know it."

She bobbed her head and stared at the floor. "I know. I don't like it." Then she looked up at him and asked, "But the question is, can you get Fiona to understand that?"

"I don't know. I intend to find out, though."

Maddie wrapped her arms around him and hugged him like she used to when he was a little boy. If she could have reached it, she would have kissed the top of his head like she did so long ago. When she released him, she looked into his eyes. "If I wake up in the morning and find your bed empty, I'll know you went driving to the Keys looking for Fiona."

He loved her for knowing him so well and accepting his desires. She knew where his heart lay, and at the moment it was in pieces without Fiona as the glue to keep him together. "All this time I was away, I kept trying to tell myself that it was better if Fi and I stayed apart. I know the truth now." He shook his head and stared out the dining room window at the growing darkness. "I feel like... I'm only half a man without her."

"I'm glad you finally figured that out," Maddie cracked. "Everyone else saw it but you. You were too focused on your agenda, and what you thought you had to do to protect us. It all blew up in your face and you almost lost her."

When Michael looked down at her through wet eyes, he saw her pointing at him like she used to when he did something wrong and she lectured him. "I'll try not to make that same mistake twice. I promise." They were the same words he used back then, and most times he was as good as his word.

Maddie sighed. "I left a weekender bag on your bed. Find Fiona and bring her home, will you? You're not the only one who loves her."

Michael smiled, laughed, and fought off a wave of emotion that threatened to turn him into an embarrassing puddle of tears if he let it. Instead, he embraced his mother again, kissed her cheek, and pulled away to go upstairs and pack his bag. He didn't count on the sight of his old double bed, the soft olive green chenille bedspread beckoning him to to lay down for just a moment. He gave in, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling, and his heavy lids closed as he slipped into slumber.

When Michael awoke, the room was dark except for the light from the street lamp streaming through the filmy curtains. He sat up with a start, glancing at his watch and seeing that it was after midnight. He should have been in Key West by now. Contrary to what everyone believed, thinking that he was clueless as to Fiona's whereabouts, Michael knew better than any one of them where she was based. He didn't have an address, but he would find her. If everything worked out, he could leave at that moment, locate her during the day, and bring her home by nightfall. Easy peasy, as Sam liked to say.

However, nothing with Fiona was ever easy. Maybe that was why he loved her so much, because nothing worth having was ever easy. He'd learned that well enough. He turned and ran his hand over the unwrinkled bedspread. There would be no more sleep tonight, of that he was certain.

His instinct was to just leave, but Michael decided to heed his mother's advice and pack a bag. Maybe, once he found Fiona, the two of them could spend some quality time down there alone before he had to share Fiona's attention with his friends and family.

"Michael," Maddie's voice startled him as he stood at the top of the stairs. "Are you leaving now?"

"Yes, Ma. I'm going to Key West and I'll work my way back here."

"Good luck, honey. Don't be afraid to call and keep me updated, okay?" She patted his arm and returned to her room. "Drive safe."

"I will, Ma. Thanks." Until recently, he hadn't experienced such concern from her. It was foreign, but it made him feel good and he liked it. He envisioned what life might be like after the Agency, that maybe they could have the kind of peace and whatever it was normal families had that kept them together.

It was an almost four hour drive to Key West, so Michael made sure he had a full tank of gas before he left. Then he took off into the night, his mind focusing on the end of his journey. What would he find? First order of business was to locate a hotel to set up as home base. Then try to get a couple hours of sleep and start looking for Fiona.

* * *

He slept longer than he intended, and if it weren't for his phone ringing, Michael might have stayed asleep longer. He rolled to his side, still on top of the bedspread and fully clothed, and picked up his phone. The screen read ,"Sam."

"Yeah, Sam? What's up?"

"I was just checking up on you. I thought maybe you'd like to go fishing or something, but I called your Ma's house and she said you were in Key West." He hesitated. "Any luck finding Fi?"

"I just got here a few hours ago and found myself a place to stay." He yawned and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm going to go out in a little while and see if I can track her down. My intel says she's doing some business down here."

Sam chuckled. "I guess there's one benefit to being in with the Agency, huh?"

"Yeah." He didn't need to say anymore. He knew that Sam understood how he felt, that the perks of the job were no longer worth the pain and isolation he'd endured all those years.

"I better let you go then. Tell Fi if she doesn't come back with you, I'll get Jesse, and we'll all come down and hound her until she comes back to Miami." Sam said, "Tell her we want our sister home. If she won't come for you, maybe she'll do it for us."

Michael's laughter was soft. "I'll see what I can do."

"Don't just see what you can do. Do it!"

"Yes, Sir." Michael teased. Sam did outrank him in age and military stature, but neither of them ever bothered with that. "Sam?"

"Yeah, Mikey."

"I'm sorry if I never said how much I appreciate your friendship. You've put up with a lot for me."

"I know, but you're worth it. Good luck, Mike, and if you need any help, you know who to call."

The smile on Michael's face reached into the tone of his voice. "You can count on it, Sam. Thanks."

Talking to Sam brought back the ache in his heart. There was a big empty space in it that only Fiona could fill, and he was well aware of that now. None of his other activities or his work could satisfy him. How stupid he'd been to think that it could! If he lost everything, lost her, because of his mistakes, Michael wasn't sure what he would do. He couldn't go back to that life, as much as his superiors wanted him to.

"I've gotta get out there and find you, Fi," Michael whispered as he stood and made a move toward his bag.

Not long after, he emerged from the old hotel and looked around at the increasing activity on the street. Cafes were open and the tables almost full with tourists enjoying their morning coffee. The sunshine beat down on the pavement, and Michael could already feel the heat through his flimsy footwear. In order to fin in, he wore knee-length khaki shorts, a light blue Hawaiian shirt not unlike one Sam might wear, unbuttoned to expose his chest to the warmth of the sun, and flip-flops. Even his sunglasses were different, because he didn't want to come upon Fiona and have her flee before he could speak to her, to try to explain himself.

At this early hour, Michael decided to wander toward the east and check out the open air restaurants. Perhaps he would get lucky and find her sitting at a little cafe table, alone, with her Spanish omelet, whites only, and coffee. He walked until he came upon a residential area, where he turned and walked back through the main street. He stalked the pavement westward and found nothing, at least not the woman he sought. Michael forced a heavy sigh between his lips and sat at one of the cafe tables near the street. Perhaps he would be lucky enough to have her walk past.

"Would you care for something to eat, Sir?"

Michael looked up at the waitress but his gaze went through her as he ordered. His mind was so focused on Fiona that he had no idea what he requested. It would be a surprise. Not that he payed attention to what he was eating anyway. It was simply fuel to keep him going to find her. While he ate his meal and scoped the passing diversity of people, he ran through his head what he would say to her, thinking of something clever and discarding it, one sentence at a time.

"_Hi, Fi. I'm back. Did you miss me?"_

"_Fi, you look great. Not having me around has been good for you. Too bad I can't say the same."_

"_Hi, Fi. I'm sorry we left things the way we did. Have a coffee with me, and we can talk?"_

Michael finished up the last of his coffee and washed down the egg white as his eyes locked onto a familiar figure. She did look good, better than while they were on the run. She hadn't been eating as well as she should have been until they settled into Schmidt's house. The fresh air and sunshine did wonders for her skin, making it glow along with the sweet, subtle smile on her lips. The light breeze stirred her reddish brown locks, and Michael held his breath in anticipation. She hooked a few errant strands with her index finger and tucked them behind her ear, the simple gesture creating a warmth deep down in his gut. How he'd missed the way she moved!

"Fiona," he whispered. He knew he would find her. He just didn't think it would be this easy. It was harder to make his leg muscles bring him to a standing position so he could cross the street and meet her.

He watched her perusing the racks of beach wear outside a small store, his eyes locked on her graceful hands as she pushed the hangers on the rack. Her eyes were hidden behind large sunglasses or he would have gazed at them and the serene expression she wore. He sat there until his heart couldn't take it anymore and he willed himself to move. Without looking, he tossed a twenty on the table, not caring about the change. The metal chair's legs scraped on the concrete, he pushed himself to stand, and like a zombie he stepped into the street to cross to her.

A horn blared, the driver yelling curses at him. Michael jumped back with hands up. "Sorry!" By the time the driver had moved on and Michael's eyes returned to his target, she was gone. "No, Fi, you can't disappear." He looked for an opening in traffic and hurried across the street, not stopping until he stood in the very spot she had just moments earlier. He turned his head, scanning the area. She couldn't have gone far in so short a time, unless he imagined her. No, she had to be real.

Fiona wasn't inside the store, and she wasn't in any of the others flanking it. Michael stood on the sidewalk, hands on hips, forcing himself to keep his breathing calm. He'd never been in such a panic over her before. A movement to the right caught his eye, and he turned in time to see the colorful flowered wrap that Fiona wore disappearing down a side street. His feet seemed to have a mind of their own as they moved to catch up to her.

Michael rounded the corner and found that she wasn't alone. Instincts forced him to pull back and peer around the corner. She and the tall, slim man with sandy brown hair were in conversation, and he could hear just about every word and fill in the blanks.

"You have what I need," he asked.

"I'm still working on it. Getting a dozen assault rifles of this type isn't like just walking into the supermarket and picking up the economy pack, you know," Fiona replied. "My suppliers are feeling some heat right now, and they have to be careful."

"I don't care. I need them for this operation. I need them by mid-week." The man was angry, grinding the words out between his teeth.

"I'll see what I can do. Just be warned that if this causes problems for them, it could blow back on me, and you."

"I don't care. By the time we're done, we'll be well on our way out of the country before anyone comes looking for us." He paused. "What about your boyfriend, Westen? Is he going to be a problem?"

Fiona hesitated, and Michael hoped that was a good thing. She replied with ice in her tone, "He's not my boyfriend. That's ancient history."

"I see."

"Besides, he's probably miles from here, working as usual, betraying more friends and people he loves... sorry, no need to tell you about my problems."

Michael banged the back of his head against the brick corner. He'd caused Fiona so much hurt, he wasn't sure how he could ever fix it. If she was spouting off to strangers, her wounds must run deep and ugly.

"Everybody's got problems. Maybe after this is all over we can hang out in a tiki bar somewhere in the Caribbean and iron them out."

Michael dared to look again in time to see the man caress Fiona's jawline with a provocative look in his eyes. He couldn't see Fiona's face, but she brought her hand up and with gentleness pushed his hand away, breaking the contact.

"I think your mind will be on other things at that point. I'll talk to you again in a couple of days, after I've had a chance to meet my contact." Her head tilted back as she looked into his eyes. "I promise you, I'll get those guns. That's what I do."

"Alright. Two days, and I'll meet you at the Pelican Perch."

"I'll be there, but only for business." Fiona nodded, turned away from him, and crossed the street without looking back. She returned to the main street and headed east.

Michael wanted to call out to her to make her stop, but he was afraid after the exchange that she would hear his voice and flee, so he picked up the pace and closed in on her. She didn't seem to know that he was behind her, getting nearer by the moment. A smile broke out on his face when he was only two doors away and she stopped in front of a candy store. A man who looked a lot like Campbell emerged. He was a dead ringer for the paramedic who had been Fiona's boyfriend for a brief time, and despite the way she hurt him, came to their aid when Sam was shot while they were on the run. Michael slowed his steps to follow them as the two walked away, his eyes sizing him up in disbelief.

When he turned his face to talk to Fiona, Michael realized that it wasn't Campbell at all. He was older and taller. But he still looked at her with the same dreamy expression, a smile turning up the corners of his lips just before he leaned in to kiss hers. It was only a brief peck, but it was enough. She plucked a lemon drop from a small bag he held between them and popped it into her mouth before giving him a quick kiss.

In the six months Michael had been away, Fiona found someone else and was conducting her business as if nothing had happened between them. Suddenly, he understood what he'd done to her, all the heartache he'd heaped upon her. He should have been happy that she was finally happy. After all, wasn't that really what he said he wanted for her when she met Campbell? Deep down, however, he thought she would only be happy with him and that he could play that to his advantage. Michael assumed she would always be there, but the truth had come home to roost. He was wrong and selfish, and he deserved losing her.

It was enough to make a stoic spy like himself cry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Michael should have been able to handle this himself, but after seeing Fiona walk into a bed and breakfast with Mr. Campbell-look-alike and waiting all day for them to emerge, he couldn't take it anymore. Stakeouts on strangers were bad enough, but on someone he loved, it was complete torture. Thoughts and plans rambled through his head. He should have stopped her. He should have ripped her arm from the stranger's grasp and let him have it with his other hand curled up into a fist. He should have fought for her. Instead, he watched her disappear from his sight, and maybe his life forever.

As the sun began to set in the west, and he'd been back and forth along the main street for several hours, Michael dropped onto a bench against a storefront, unable to take another step. He fished out his phone and dialed the one person he knew who could help him with woman problems.

"Mikey, what's wrong," Sam greeted him, sounding tense.

"Sam, I found Fi, but I have a problem." He paused, trying to form the words to tell his best friend the horrible news.

Before he could say another word, Sam blurted, "Oh, no. No. She did not find another guy, Mike. No way."

"How did you know..."

"I know how you think, but I also know Fiona. She wouldn't dump you, man."

"I'm afraid you're wrong, Sam. I saw them... together... right after she contacted some other guy. She's got an arms deal going on with him." Michael cleared the thickness building up in his throat and stared at the people passing.

"Maybe she's just got herself a partner in arms dealing," Sam suggested with a hopeful tone.

"If that's the case, then she's started kissing her partners."

"You were the first, Mike," Sam teased, but he sobered at the sound of a soft growl over the line. "Sorry. So, what's his name? I'll do some digging, find out what I can about him..."

"I don't know." He told Sam what he'd seen and ended on a sigh. "The last time I let her walk away she came back, but I don't think I'm going to get that lucky this time."

"Oh, Mike..." The mournful sound of Sam's voice buzzed over the line. "Tell you what. While you were with the CIA, Elsa and I took flying lessons. She, uh, dropped out, but I passed and I've got my license. So why don't I fly on down there and we'll see what's happening? We'll get to the bottom of it, and if she's really over you, well... we'll figure out how to handle things then."

"Really? You'd fly down here just like that tonight?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

It was foolish of Michael to think that Sam wouldn't drop everything and run, or in this case fly himself, to help his friend. Ever since the two reunited when Michael was first burned, the ex-SEAL was always there for him no matter what. They may not have agreed on everything, but Sam always supported him. Michael felt ashamed for his wavering trust.

Sam said, "I'm heading upstairs right now to pack a bag, and I'll call the airport to have the plane ready and file a flight plan. Then I'm there. Give me about an hour or two, okay?"

"You can fly at night? You know it'll be almost dark by the time you get here," Michael said, unsure of his friend's abilities.

"No problem, I'm cleared for night flying. The weather's fine, so I should have no problem. I'll see you in a little while. Oh, and don't be surprised if Elsa comes along. She's been dying to get up in the plane with me."

"That's not a problem. I'm just glad you're coming here. Thanks for your help, Sam." Michael took a deep breath. He hadn't felt so helpless in many years, and he didn't know how to cope. "I'm staying at the Magnolia."

"Good choice. Do me a favor and see if you can book a room for me and Elsa."

"Will do." After he broke the connection with Sam, Michael let out a breath in relief. He finally had something to do while he waited.

Michael walked back to the hotel and booked a room across the hall for Sam and Elsa. Left with nothing else to do, he drove to the airport to wait for Sam's plane to arrive. He found a comfortable seat near the arrivals area and waited, feeling a sense of déjà vu, except in this case the tables were turned. He was waiting for Sam this time. He parked his butt across from a wide glass window but saw very little traffic coming into the airport. Several planes lined up to take off, however, and he watched them with half interest. The craft he wanted to see would be coming in from the east.

Almost ninety minutes after Sam called, Michael moved to the window and watched a sharp looking single-engine Cessna glide in for a perfect landing, the last of the sunlight painting its white body a blazing orange. The plane appeared to be able to seat ten passengers with a cargo hold underneath, and Michael almost salivated at the possibilities if it was indeed Sam's plane. That much space for people and supplies would be perfect for any mission requiring winged transportation. The Cessna slowed to a rolling stop at the end of the runway and turned left, taxiing toward the arrival area.

Michael lost sight of it for a couple of minutes, and then he saw the sleek craft pulling into an unoccupied parking area, being led by a ground crew member holding two red lights above his head. The engine shut down, the propeller slowing to a stop. Inside the cockpit he saw one person moving , backlit by the cabin lights. The pilot turned and Michael saw Sam's distinctive profile. A door on the side of the cabin opened and Elsa descended the stairs. Sam followed with two suitcases, and when he hit the tarmac, he set them down and secured the plane's entrance before walking to the building with the rolling pieces of luggage. Whatever Sam expected to do in Key West, he anticipated that it might take awhile. Elsa had her phone glued to her ear, talking all the way to the terminal, and she put it away just in time to say hello to Michael.

He didn't expect to get a warm hug from her. He accepted it and looked over her shoulder with a questioning gaze at Sam, who only shrugged.

As she broke away, Elsa looked at him with sympathy in her expression. "Sam told me about Fiona. I'm so sorry this happened, but if there's anything we can do, we'll certainly try."

"Thanks, Elsa. I appreciate it."

"Did you see the plane, Mike? She's a beauty isn't she?" Sam grinned as he put an arm around Elsa's waist, leaving Michael to wonder if he was talking about the airplane or the woman that he held close. "It was my graduation present for passing flight school."

"He was top of his class," Elsa said with pride as she smiled and squeezed Sam. "He deserved it."

"It seats eight and has a payload of around three thousand pounds, give or take a few hundred." He grinned. "It's quite the mode of transportation."

"That's great," Michael said, feeling uncomfortable with the intimacy that passed between the two. "I got you a room at the Magnolia, so why don't we start there?"

"That's a great idea, Mike. Come on, honey." Sam released her and took her hand. "After we get checked in, we'll grab dinner and we can talk about what's going on."

Michael picked up Elsa's luggage and he and Sam carried the bags to the Charger. He put both pieces in the trunk and Sam got into the back seat, letting Elsa ride shotgun. As he drove the road through the downtown area and headed to the hotel, Michael kept his eyes roving, looking for a sign of Fiona. She was nowhere to be seen under the streetlights coming to life or in the open air restaurants they passed. He dropped Sam and Elsa off at the hotel entrance and parked the car as they checked in and settled in, and he scanned the area outside the hotel with no success.

Michael wasn't surprised to see Sam wearing his usual attire, but Elsa ditched her business suit for a bright yellow sundress with flowers on it. She wore white stylish sandals on her feet and her jewelry matched. Even in casual clothing, she looked elegant.

To his surprise, Elsa asked, "So, where'd you see Fiona?"

Recovering, Michael answered and turned his head toward the east. "She was at a bed and breakfast down a few blocks."

"Let's go grab some drinks and something to eat, and we'll talk about this. I know you're eager to get her, Mike, but I need to know what we're dealing with here before we just jump in," Sam urged as he led the way out of the hotel.

Again, Sam knew exactly what he was thinking.

"So, where can a guy get a good mojito around here?"

Smiling, Michael said, "Follow me. I think I know just the place.

* * *

The three ate dinner under the stars. A breeze with a hint of coolness came off the ocean, and Elsa shivered against the cold air. Without a word, Sam picked up the wrap draped over the back of her chair and set it on her shoulders, and Elsa thanked him with her eyes. The more Michael witnessed Sam interacting with her, the more he understood what women saw in him. He was always attentive even if he didn't appear to be, sneaking small tokens of affection now and then either under or on the table, and seeing to it that she was comfortable and always had something to drink.

Michael observed all this as he told Sam about his day following Fiona around and staking out the bed and breakfast. "If you can figure out another explanation for what's going on, I'm all ears."

Smiling, Sam replied, "Mike, you should know better. Not everything is always as it appears. And right now you're agitated because you had this idea you would just come down here, find Fiona, and sweep her off her feet. You didn't count on her having some kind of life, did you?"

"You call this a life," Michael asked as he leaned forward and lowered his voice to avoid drawing attention. "She's arms dealing again, Sam. It's dangerous and the payout is risky."

"Like anything we did wasn't risky?" Sam rested his elbows on the table, closing the distance so that Elsa had to sit back or wind up sandwiched between the two men. "Mike, Fi's a big girl, she can handle herself. No offense, Brother, but she was doing all that stuff before you met her, and then you left, and she went right back to it."

"You're not helping, Sam."

"Tough truth hurts sometimes. I know you, if I tried to sugar coat this, you'd be calling me out on it." Sam snorted. "You know it's true."

Michael let out a long sigh and dropped his forehead onto his folded hands. "You're right. Okay, so she's got this new life, am I supposed to just let it go and be happy for her?"

"If it were anyone else, I'd say... maybe." Sam's eyes darkened in intensity when he spoke. "But I know you, and I know Fi. Try as you might, you're never good without each other. You need to confront her and if we have to tie her down with zip ties until you get a chance to adequately explain this whole thing, then that's what we'll do." Sam leaned back in his chair. "I just wish you'd explain it to me first, because I sure don't know what happened! I can guess, but I'd rather hear the truth from you."

"Can you wait until we get together with Fiona? It might be easier that way."

Sam nodded and tapped Elsa's upper arm. "Okay, Elsa, honey, we'll need duct tape too."

"Duct tape? Whatever for?" She looked at him as if he was crazy.

"To keep her mouth shut," Sam replied with a smirk. "Heavy duty, 'cause she'll probably chew through the regular stuff before Mike gets out two words."

"Sam," Michael growled, while Sam laughed.

"You know I'm just kidding, Mikey!"

"Sorry, I'm not in much of a kidding mood." Michael scanned the beach beyond the deck and watched the last of the sun dip below the waterline. How come he never paid attention to stuff like that before? He knew Fi would have liked to see it. For all he knew, she could be on a beach somewhere on the island at that very moment enjoying it with Whats His Name.

"We'll get her, Mike. Don't worry."

"I know." Michael turned a warm smile on his friend. "I still can't believe you just jumped in that plane and flew here!"

"I need all the practice I can get," Sam said. "I want to learn how to fly a jet, and then I can pilot Elsa's Gulfstream." He grinned. "Now that's one hot plane!"

"It keeps him out of trouble," Elsa cut in with a sly smile. "That and his dad..."

"Elsa," Sam warned.

Michael's expression turned serious. "Your dad, Sam? What's this about?"

"I don't wanna talk about it. You've got your own troubles, Mike. Let's just finish up here and go back to the hotel, grab a little soak in the jacuzzi, and hit the sack." Sam drained his mojito glass. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow." He waved for the check and paid it, to Michael's surprise. Then Sam pulled Elsa's chair out and she stood, and he put an arm around her shoulders to lead her back to the Magnolia. "Coming, Mike?"

"Uh, yeah." Hearing the word 'dad' conjured up a lot of bad memories for Michael. Sam never talked about his father, not much anyway. Just bits and pieces of his childhood came to light during assignments and jobs, but nothing that would allow him to get a good picture of who the senior Axe was. Sam was shaken enough by Elsa's blurb that he knew he needed to draw him out and get to the bottom of it. If talking about Fiona would heal something inside Michael, talking about his dad would heal Sam.

At the hotel, Michael found Sam in the hot tub alone. "Where's Elsa?"

Sam sighed as he took a sip of another mojito and set it on the rim as he laid his head back. "She got a call from the hotel. It's probably nothing, but some people on the staff know she'll pick up for anything."

"So we might not see her for awhile," Michael suggested. He took one step into the warm water. It swirled and bubbled around his ankle, the warmth enticing him to immerse himself. He heeded the call, descending the short stairs and sitting on a shelf that ran along the outside.

"Good evening, Sir. Would you care for a cocktail," a woman asked Michael.

He looked up into her friendly face. "Sure. Just some whisky, straight up."

"Certainly, Sir." She hurried away to get him his drink.

"How's the mojito," Michael asked, warming himself up to deliver the insightful questions.

"It'll do." Sam took another sip and slipped further under the water so only his neck and head showed. "You should get down more, Mike. Let those jets get rid of the tension."

"I suppose your dad is giving you some tension?" Michael quirked an eyebrow as he followed Sam's advice. He took a sip of the drink the server left him on the side of the jacuzzi.

"I really don't want to talk about it. It's nothing. Elsa's the one making a big deal about it."

Michael didn't say a word. He sat watching Sam mentally squirm until he would reveal more, and he didn't have to wait long.

"I saw him at that charity thing we went to last night. I wasn't sure it was him at first, because I just got a short glimpse." He paused for another sip of his drink. "I haven't seen him in decades, so I could just be imagining things. He's aged, you know?"

"Haven't we all," Michael said. "But there had to be something that made him stick out in your mind and make you think it was your dad."

"The nose. We have almost the same nose," Sam replied. "And the cheek bones. The hair, but his was, like, white almost, and cut in a military style."

"He doesn't have your chin?" Michael turned to look at his friend's profile.

Sam turned his head to face him and replied, "No, got that from my mom."

"Oh. Still, what makes you think it's him? And if it is, so what? Unless you want to reach out and meet up with him, what difference does it make?"

"I don't know," Sam replied with a groan. "I've been asking myself that the last twenty four hours. It shouldn't matter. He and I have no relationship other than by blood, so why should I care about him?"

"Wasn't he there when you were a kid," Michael asked. "You told me about the Red Ryder gun..."

"Yeah, he was around for that, but it wasn't long after when he left." Sam lowered his chin to his chest, as if telling Michael that little fact drew out the last of his energy. "I always thought it was my fault, because I would do stuff that pissed off my dad. Until I was about ten, he was great. He taught me a lot of cool stuff, but then he got... busy... with work." Sam shook his head. "You don't really wanna hear all this boring crap."

"It's not boring, Sam. I know nearly everything else about you, but this is a piece you've never revealed." He rested a forearm on the side of the jacuzzi and turned to face Sam. "It's not like I can't take it. You know what my dad was like."

"You're right. Okay, I'll tell you." Sam fortified himself with a good sip of his mojito before beginning. "Like I said, my dad was around and he was great. He always believed in firm discipline, but he never knocked me around in anger, you know?" Not like Michael's dad. "He had a great arm, and he taught me how to throw a football." Sam smiled at the recollection and relaxed against the wall. "He was a star quarterback in high school, and he was certain I would be too, but he always told me that the education was more important."

"Sounds like he was a good dad," Michael said.

"He was, when he was around. Like I said, he started popping in and out. Ma said he had a new job that required him to travel a lot. For awhile there he was hardly home, and that's when I stole the Red Ryder. I wanted that thing so bad, but he was never around to talk about it, so I just took matters into my own hands." He paused and licked his lips, staring across the hot tub, lost in the past. "When he came home and found out about it, that was the closest he ever came to beating me. But he decided to let the embarrassment of going back to the store and meeting with the manager in front of the other customers be enough punishment." He smirked. "The really crazy thing was, I had enough allowance money to buy it. It was stupid."

"You were acting out because you missed your dad," Michael suggested. "If you did something drastic, maybe he'd come home and give you his attention."

The corner of Sam's mouth tipped up. "Bingo. It worked, for a few days. Then he was off again." He sighed deeply. "I felt betrayed. I can't even imagine what Mom was thinking. But then I look back and I think about how she acted, and things she said... she knew he was having an affair." He stopped and took a sip of his drink. "I didn't figure out something was up until I was fifteen. Dad came home for a couple weeks, said we were going on vacation. We went to Yellowstone and camped out, and I was in our tent alone and saw something peeking out of my dad's suitcase. It was a picture of a woman, and it wasn't my Mom."

"Did you call him out on it?"

Sam nodded. "When Mom was away from the site, yeah, I did." He fell silent, the memory of that day too painful to voice. Instead, he shook his head. "That was it after that. He moved out, my parents got divorced, and I never saw him again. At least, not directly." He drained his glass.

Michael looked at Sam, puzzled. "What do you mean, not directly?"

"I swear I saw him at some of my games, but I wasn't sure. And graduation. When I went to Annapolis, I could have sworn he was in the stands." A small smile crossed his lips. "If it was him, he looked really proud of me. Maybe I just wanted to see that, I don't know."

"Hello, boys," Elsa said as she approached, slipped off her sandals, and stepped into the warm water. She slid to Sam's side and he smiled at her as he enfolded her into himself.

"Hey, baby." He kissed her temple.

"You two look so serious. Sam must be telling you about his dad."

"I was working on it."

"Well, sweetheart, I don't think you were just imagining things. One of the reasons I was on the phone so long is that there was a disturbance at the hotel. A man claiming to be Sam Axe Sr. came to the hotel, checked in, and was adamant about seeing you."

"Really?"

"Yes. He got quite belligerent when he was told you weren't there, that you'd just left town." She ordered a drink and returned to her news. "I got his room number, so if you want to call him and talk to him, Sam, you can."

"Wow. You think it's really him?" He looked around at Michael and Elsa. "And if it is, what do I say? It's been how long since I've seen him? Almost half a century." Sam took a long drag on the refill of his drink. "I'll think about it."

Michael advised with a serious tone, "Don't think too long, Sam. He's gotta be an old man now."

"When you saw him at the charity ball, he looked quite old. Frail, even," Elsa volunteered. "There may not be much time..."

Sam pushed himself off the bench and away from Elsa. "Don't you think I know that?" He turned and stared at his friend and his lover gawking at him. "I said I'd think about it, and I will. Just don't push me." He climbed the steps, grabbed a towel, and headed for the room.

"I'm sorry," Michael said.

"It's not your fault. He probably thinks, I'm nagging him. Compared to him, I had a perfectly idyllic childhood. Or so he likes to say." She smirked. The expression wiped off her face and she looked at Michael. "I just want him to be happy, and at peace with his dad."

"I wish I could have that, but my dad is gone." He gave Elsa a reassuring smile. "I'll see what I can do to help Sam."

"Thank you, Michael. He really has a great friend in you."

Michael gave her a soulful smile. "I think the feeling is mutual."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The next morning, Sam knocked on Michael's door and called, "Hey Mikey, rise and shine!"

Michael opened the door and studied Sam's cheerful expression. Apparently he'd gotten over his being upset the night before. Michael, on the other hand, spent a good part of his night dreaming of Fiona, and in most of the scenarios she wound up leaving him behind, smiling and waving as she disappeared on the horizon.

"Jeez, Mike, you look like hell," Sam muttered. "Bad night? I, uh, didn't say anything to..."

"No," Michael answered quickly. "If anything, I should be wondering about the things I said, but... never mind. Getting a hold of Fiona will go a long way toward making me feel better."

"Well, let's start with a little breakfast first," Sam suggested and tugged on Michael's sleeve. "Elsa's downstairs getting us a table. A couple, three, four cups of coffee and some protein and carbs, and you'll be rarin' to go!"

Michael barely had a chance to sit and study his menu when Elsa asked, "So, what's our plan?"

"Our plan," Michael replied as he pointed to Sam and himself. "Our plan is to get over to the bed and breakfast, hopefully before Fi comes out. When she does, we'll track her and find a good place to get her aside to talk."

"But I want to help," Elsa pleaded. "Fiona doesn't really know me. She saw me that one time. Maybe I can go in there and locate her, flush her out somehow and then we all confront her." Elsa grinned. "Sort of an intervention."

Michael thought it was cute how naïve she was and gave her an indulgent smile. "You don't even realize how dangerous that could be."

"Amen, Brother," Sam agreed and turned to Elsa. "If Fi's armed, who knows what she might do if she feels threatened by you."

"I'll go in unarmed," Elsa countered as she held her butter knife over her toast. She dropped it to her plate and it clattered against the china. "Sam has taught me how to shoot, but I'd rather go in without a gun or anything, and just talk to her woman to woman."

"We don't know what kind of frame of mind she's in right now," Michael said. "No, I'm not going to risk you getting hurt."

Her brows knit in frustration, she asked, "Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Stay here at the hotel, punkin," Sam answered with a smile.

"I think you're both being ridiculous." Elsa sat back in her chair and put on her sunglasses. "See, she'd never recognize me."

Michael sighed and shook his head. As far as he was concerned, the discussion was over. He would never risk Elsa's life just to get to Fiona. He had time, although he would rather spend it with Fi than use it to find her, but if that's what he had to do, he would do it. Then he'd try to get an extension on his leave if he needed it.

After everyone finished and the bill was paid, the three got up from the table. Elsa turned away and started down the sidewalk toward the inn. Sam took a couple large strides, caught up to her and grabbed her arm. "Woah, woah, where do you think you're going?"

"It's a free country, sweetheart. If I want to go shopping or look at the charming architecture around here, there's no law that says I can't, is there?" Behind her sunglasses she blinked at the unwavering stare Sam gave her and she huffed out a breath and replied, "Recon. I'm doing recon, okay? I'll check out the B and B, and let you know if I see Fiona with this guy."

Michael scowled and warned, "Elsa, you're not getting involved."

Before Sam could say a word, Elsa stepped between the two men, slid the glasses off her face, and looked into Michael's eyes. "For your information, Westen, I got involved the moment you intended to borrow my catamaran to get out of the country, and especially when you took my SUV. You don't have the right to tell me that I can't get involved, because I already am. Got it?"

Michael stared at her, then over her shoulder he met Sam's eyes.

"It's up to you, Mike. I'm just warning you, she can be pretty stubborn about this. Kinda like Fi."

"Okay," Michael said with a sigh. "Just don't do anything stupid, and follow us." He turned to Sam. "Looks like Elsa's with us."

"I knew that," Sam responded with a smirk.

Michael studied Elsa, hoping he could find a way to discourage her, but like Fiona, she was determined to do what she wanted to do.

Elsa took a step forward, a smile of victory on her face. "Okay, now show me where this place is, and I'll go check it out."

"Be careful. If she recognizes you, get out," Michael urged as they headed for the bed and breakfast.

"Don't worry. Sam has taught me quite a bit about what you do. I think I can manage." Elsa walked with confidence ahead of the two men.

The bed and breakfast was now only a couple blocks away. Suddenly, Michael ordered, "Elsa, stop." Sam knew better than to question him, and Elsa was too surprised to say anything. A man stepped out of the front entrance, trotted down the stairs, and walked eastward. Michael recognized him as the man he saw with Fiona earlier.

"Jeez Mike, is that him?" Sam asked after the man disappeared down a side street. "He does look like Campbell, a little."

"Yeah."

"But he's taller, more muscular." Sam squinted at the old Victorian house that had been turned into an inn. "You think she's still inside?"

"I don't know. I'm also not sure this is a good idea for you to be going in there, Elsa." Michael eyed her.

Elsa returned the gaze with a hard, business-like one of her own, but her eyes softened. "Michael, there's no better time for me to go in there. Fiona is alone right now, and if she's accessible to start up a casual conversation..."

"No, don't talk to her. Just find out if she's there and I'll do the talking," Michael advised and held up a hand to stop her, his fingers curling around her upper arm. He noted the way Sam looked at him and released her. "She knows you, remember?"

Elsa considered this for a moment. "But if she's planning something, the last thing on her mind will be one of Sam's girlfriends, don't you think?"

Michael didn't like this plan, not one bit. He thought it was crazy to begin with, and as they closed in on their quarry, his unease increased. He'd put his friends in danger too many times, not thinking about their welfare because they were so eager to jump in and sacrifice for him. Such bravery, or foolishness, nearly cost Sam his life. If something happened to Elsa, Sam would never forgive him and he could never forgive himself. She might have thought she had an idea what she was getting into, but Elsa had no clue.

"I changed my mind. Ican't let you do this, Elsa. We don't really know that Fi's alone. We don't know how she'll react to seeing you, if she recognizes you or not."

"Mike, maybe we can just keep an eye on the place and when she comes out, we follow her." Sam's eyes roved to the entrance. "Like right now."

His eyes widening, Michael pressed Sam and Elsa into the alcove of a shop entrance. "Wait here." He stood with them just out of sight. Fiona walked past the doorway, and in the mid-morning shadows the trio was hidden well enough to not catch her attention. After she was past a good distance, Michael let out a breath and stepped onto the sidewalk. Fiona strolled ahead about fifty yards, her stride casual and her arms swinging as if she didn't have a care in the world.

"Are we following her or not," Elsa asked with an impatient tone in her voice.

"Following at a safe distance," Michael replied. He led the way, saying, "You two fall back a little. I don't want her to see us all together. She'll think we're ganging up on her."

"Alright," Sam agreed. He grasped Elsa's hand and held her back. She was like a nervous filly in her first horse race, but with his hand holding hers, squeezing it in reassurance, she settled down a little.

Fiona took her time walking, stopping often to browse the wares in the outdoor displays. Michael, Sam, and Elsa used the stands to mask their approach, but Michael feared that it wasn't enough. Not when he saw a smug little smile cross her lips before she was on the move again. She turned abruptly down a side street, Michael followed her onto the deserted thoroughfare, and Sam and Elsa followed.

"Michael. You better have a damn good reason for you and Sam to be following me everywhere." Fiona spoke through a locked jaw as she pointed a gun at him, waving it between him and Sam. She turned her attention to Elsa and asked, "And who's this?"

Elsa removed her sunglasses. "I'm Elsa. Remember me?" She smiled at Fiona and held out a nervous hand. "I don't think we've ever been formally introduced."

"Yes, I do remember you. What are you doing here? And what are you and Sam doing here, Michael? Shouldn't you be off with your CIA buddies?"

"Fi, is there somewhere we can talk? I need to explain..."

"I have a meeting to go to and I'm late. Perhaps we can talk later." Her eyes returned to Michael's as she added, "If you stop following me, I'll meet you wherever you like. If it fits in my schedule."

Michael nodded. At the moment, he would take any crumb she would give him. "We're staying at the Magnolia. Can you meet us there for dinner?"

Fiona thought for a moment. "I think so. Let's make it six."

Before Michael could answer, she turned and walked down the side street toward a small sports car. A man sat in the driver's seat glaring at them. Fiona said something to the man as she got in, but they couldn't hear her words. He pulled out of the parking space and pealed away, giving Michael an evil look as he passed.

"Looks like whoever Fi's hanging with these days doesn't like you," Sam declared. He memorized the license plate on the car. "Let's go back to the hotel. I wanna run that plate through the system."

"You still have access, Sam?" Michael had a hopeful tone in his voice.

Sam grinned. "I never lost it. Just because we got in hot water with the CIA for a little while, that didn't mean my buddies would cut me off. Let's go."

Michael hated the time when there was nothing to do, no investigating or lead chasing. Sam was taking care of the only thing they had, Fiona's companion's license plate. The three retreated to the swimming pool, and while he and Elsa swam laps, Sam parked at a small table with a drink and his laptop, doing a lot of tapping at keys. Michael glided to the shallow end and pushed himself out of the water, grabbed a towel, and sat across from Sam.

"You've been spending a lot of time getting the owner of that plate," Michael said.

"That's because I found a lot about our mystery man. First of all, the car is a rental, and I was able to tap into the rental company to get a name. Then I ran him through DMV. For a guy who may be an arms dealer, he doesn't keep a very low profile," Sam replied. "He has a few traffic citations for speeding, running red lights, stuff like that. But he's also been arrested a couple of times for smuggling and forgery. He must have a good lawyer, 'cause nothing ever seems to stick. At least none of the serious stuff." Sam hit a button and a sheet of paper he stuck into his portable printer spit out a page that he handed to Michael. "There's the short sheet for Thomas Jay Carter. He goes by TJ."

"Why would Fiona be hanging out with him," Elsa asked as she sat in the other empty chair and worked her hair back with her fingertips.

"It doesn't look like he's much of a criminal... yet," Michael said. "But if he's got some good connections, maybe Fi's just using him for those."

"I'm checking out some other things, Mikey. I don't know, it just seems like there's gotta be more to this guy, so I'm looking into the FBI database." The computer chirped and Sam stared at the screen. "Oh, this is interesting. He's on the FBI watch list, with the CIA having an interest in him too."

Michael leaned forward, his curiosity up. "Why?"

"Apparently, Thomas Jay Carter is an alias for Thomas Jason Kelly. He's an Irish national, possible ties to the IRA, but nothing has ever been pinned on him." He looked up from the screen and met Michael's eyes. "Maybe he's an old friend of Fi's from back in the day."

"I don't know." Michael's short answer told Sam that he didn't care, and Sam worried that he was letting his jealousy cloud his vision.

"I'm going to do a little more digging here. Maybe you can get the Agency to do a check on him. If they've got their sights on Kelly, this might be a nice little feather in your cap and get you out of their clutches a little sooner."

"I could only hope." Michael studied the sheet before him and sighed. "Thanks, Sam. I'm really glad you're here." He turned to Elsa. "Thanks for letting me borrow him."

"You know he could never stay away." Elsa smiled. "I think after lunch I'm going to go do a little shopping while you guys do your investigating."

"Okay, but whatever you do, stay away from that bed and breakfast," Michael ordered, knowing that if she was as spunky as she appeared to be, she might take interviewing Fiona into her own hands anyway without consulting either him or Sam.

Elsa smiled. "I'll have you know this isn't just a pleasure trip, Michael. There are some trendy boutiques here that supply merchandise to the shop in my hotel, and It's been awhile since I've called on them. I want to see what new things they're carrying."

"I didn't know that." Michael frowned, feeling chastised for his jumping to conclusions. "I'm sorry if I..."

"It's okay," she said with a smile. "After everything you've been through, it's a wonder you're not completely paranoid." Elsa got up from her chair and moved around to kiss Sam's cheek. "I'll see you boys later. I'm going up to the room to change and head out on my excursion. I'll see you at dinner."

"Six o'clock Fi said she'd be here," Michael reminded her.

"I remember. See you both then." Elsa walked away as she slipped into a filmy wrap that covered her suit.

"Sam, do you think she's really going out on business?"

"Business business or Michael Westen business," Sam asked. He shrugged and tapped at the keys. "I know she's got some legitimate business here, so I'm hoping that she's going to do that."

"Maybe you should tag along with her. I'll do some more recon, see if I can track down Fi before dinner tonight."

"I've got a bunch of leads here, Mike..."

"Fine. I'll take a look at them," Michael said. "When I'm done, I'll leave the laptop in my room, okay?"

"Alright." A mischievous smile crossed his face. "I bet I can tell pretty quick if Elsa's going on the hunt for Fi. If I go up there and distract her," he said as he raised an eyebrow and smirked, "And she gets all evasive, I'll know she's up to something. Then I'll just work harder to distract her."

Michael didn't even want to know how Sam intended to distract Elsa. "Whatever you have to do, Sam. Just keep her away from Fi."

"I'll make the sacrifice for the team, Mikey." Sam chuckled and walked away as Michael shook his head, sat in Sam's seat, and stared at the information on the screen.

* * *

Sam entered the hotel room and heard the shower running. He glanced at the bed and saw that Elsa had a more business-like dress draped over the end of the bed and the sandals she wore last night sat on the floor. The outfit was deceptive, and he suspected that's how she wanted it. She sometimes blew him away with how much she learned from him without his speaking about spy craft. But he should know better. The woman was good at picking up subtleties and visual cues, which endeared her to him even more. I've got some visual cues for you, baby.

By the time Sam reached the shower he'd stripped down to nothing. The glass door was steamed up, so when he pushed it aside enough to get in, she was caught by complete surprise. Having a head full of shampoo suds didn't help.

"Who is it," she screeched and turned, slipping, and if Sam hadn't reached out to grab her, she would have collided with the tile wall. She struggled against him.

"It's okay, sweetheart, it's just me," Sam said and used his free hand to push the soap out of her face.

Elsa opened her eyes just a bit to see him standing inches from her. She blinked, then opened them some more. "What on earth are you doing? I have work to do." She pushed out of his grasp and rinsed the soap from her hair.

"I was feeling inclined to give you a little company today," Sam replied and ended with a tone that suggested something more. "Starting here."

She gave him a look and shook her head as she pulled back her hair. "You don't trust me. You think I'm going to go hunting for Fiona on my own, don't you?"

"The thought had occurred to both Mike and me, but if you do or not isn't the point. I just want to spend time with you."

She stared at him, sighing, and in that moment Sam knew he'd pegged her. Smiling, he moved forward and took her into his arms, the sleekness of her skin doing things to his insides. With a husky voice, he said, "We haven't had a lot of time to just let loose."

"No, we haven't."

"Let's do it. Everything else can wait, even Fiona."

"Mmhmm." She could only mumble as his touch enticed her to surrender and press into him.

He lowered his lips to hers and he was pleased when she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him close. The shower spray hit him in the face, so he turned to a position where the water fell on his body instead.

Sam managed to make her breathless and weak in his grip. Sometimes it was so easy to blaze a trail with his lips that touched every sensitive part of her so she was putty in his hands, and this was one of those times. Elsa backed up against the wall, using it to keep her on her feet as Sam controlled the water and himself to arouse her senses and bring her close to losing herself. The soap reduced the friction, creating an electricity between them and only one thing could disperse it.

"Sam," she moaned. "Let's go... lay down."

"Don't worry, I've got everything under control here," he muttered against her breast before taking it and her nerve endings to dizzying new heights. He pinned her against the wall and ravished her with his hands and lips so she was ready to explode.

He knew how to bring her to the edge, and he used that knowledge for both of their benefits. She clung to him begging for him, so he gave her what she wanted. Enveloped in the warmth of her and the heat from the shower, Sam felt as if he was on fire. He hiked up Elsa and her legs went around him, squeezing and goading him, and he threw back his head, mouth open, as he felt his own release. The spray pelted his face, but he didn't care. He was coming down from a high that no drug could ever emulate.

Elsa's legs slipped away and she stood on the tile, her body still close to his. Smiling, laughing, and kissing, they finished showering and indulged in another round in the bedroom before dressing and heading out on whatever mission Elsa had in mind. Sam was pleased to note that he'd delayed her by an hour and half. Not bad. Not bad at all. With any luck, Mike was already out on his mission.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks to Tay for kicking me in the rear and inspiring me to write a new chapter on this story. I promise I'll try not to neglect it again!_

**Chapter 5**

Michael found enough information on Fiona's companion to raise some major red flags. Part of him knew he should report his findings to the Director, but part of him wanted to handle this on his own or with Sam's help. Kelly was dangerous, and he wondered if Fiona realized just who she'd gotten into bed with. He cringed inside and a virtual knife twisted in his gut as he thought that perhaps it wasn't just a figure of speech.

Michael's phone beeped and he picked it up to find a text from Sam. 'At Shady Cove Harbor with Kelly. Will keep u informed.'

Sam was at Shady Cove with Kelly? What? The harbor was at the end of the cross street, and he knew this because he was checking out every one on the island. If this was a big arms deal, Fi would probably have a boat involved at some point, whether it delivered the guns or shipped them away. Maybe both. He turned right and drove toward the harbor, keeping his eyes peeled for Fiona. If she saw his car, everything would be blown and her life might even be in danger.

He parked far enough away from the slip where a cigarette boat was moored. Fiona stood on the dock with Kelly, and… he couldn't believe his eyes… Sam and Elsa. Sam was talking in that animated way of his with hands gesturing and an arm flung out, pointing toward the airport. Fiona squinted at him, looking doubtful, but whatever Sam was saying worked on Kelly. He nodded and said something, his stance easy, and then he extended his hand to Sam. His friend shook the arms dealer's hand as he gave him a dimpled smile, and he and Elsa turned away to leave the harbor.

"See you at eight," Sam said over his shoulder.

"We'll be there," Kelly responded while Fiona stood with her arms crossed, weight on one foot. She was angry. Michael could tell even from where he stood hidden by a large hibiscus bush.

Michael couldn't wait to grab Sam and give him a piece of his mind. Sam walked toward the downtown area with Elsa, hand in hand, as if they were out for an innocent stroll. Michael returned his attention to Fiona and Kelly and watched her body language. She was still angry at Sam's intrusion, but she played her part in whatever plan unfolded with Sam. If the arms thing ever fell through, she could become an actress. Kelly was excited, his smile gleaming as he talked, his body animated. If only he could get closer and hear their conversation.

Seeing that he would get nothing from this, Michael sighed, turned and went back to his car. He didn't expect to find Sam leaning against the shaded side with Elsa standing under the tree.

"Hey Mike, you got my message," Sam said with a smile.

"Yeah. What were you doing back there?" Michael approached him, holding his anger in check. "And how did you figure out where they were?"

"It was dumb luck, I swear, Mike. After reading some of that information, I figured Kelly would be using a boat to transport his goods." He smiled with satisfaction. "Elsa and I decided to try the nearest harbor first, after we finished with her business."

Michael let out a breath. "So what happened? It looked like you were making some kind of deal with Kelly."

"In a manner of speaking, yeah," Sam replied. "Kelly's expecting a shipment of guns to come in tonight on a speedboat, and he was all set to put them onto another boat to take up to Miami where the real deal is going down. Money is changing hands at the marina in Cutler Bay." He paused and added, "There's just one wrinkle in his plan. His boat is out of commission. I offered to fly the guns to the little private landing strip up there and his buyer could meet us there." Sam grinned. "He's working on that, and he said he'd call me if it worked out."

"How on earth did you get in his confidence so fast?" Michael stared at him with disbelief.

"Fiona and I played old friends," Elsa replied with a slick smile. "Well, I did. She was pretty stunned to see us just walk up to them while they were in the middle of a disagreement about the boat."

"I think we need to go someplace where I can get a drink and you two can tell me all about this." Michael moved around the front of the car and opened the driver's side door.

Sam let Elsa into the back and slipped into the passenger seat, still grinning, his face shining with pride at his fiancée. "You should have seen her, Mike. She shocked Fi and just launched into this old friends, how are ya, can't believe you're here shtick. It was beautiful, and completely disarmed both of them." He chuckled.

"This Kelly guy recognized Sam from earlier, but he didn't place me. I was surprised by that, but I just kept up the ruse," Elsa added to Sam's narrative.

Sam continued, telling Michael how he deduced that they were having boat troubles by the collection of tools on the dock and the mechanic who came out from below. The man told Kelly that the boat wouldn't be ready that day. "Kelly almost whipped out his gun and blew the guy's head off right there, Mike." Sam said, shaking his head. "He even had Fi a little scared, I could see it in her eyes." He took a breath and said, "She's having second thoughts about working with this guy. I don't know why she's with him to begin with, but it's pretty obvious she wants out of this arrangement."

"So how are you and Elsa going to help her with that," Michael asked as he pulled into the hotel parking lot.

"Like I said, I offered the plane. We'll put everything in the hold and Elsa, Fi, Kelly and I will fly back to Miami. If he takes the bait. We'll let the CIA take care of things in Miami." He smiled.

"When is he planning on leaving," Michael asked. "If it's soon, I'll never get there in time to meet you when you land."

"If he calls me, I'll tell him we can't take off until nine. That should give you enough time to make it there if you leave now." Sam glanced at his watch. "More than enough time for you to get a team together."

Michael stared at Elsa and Sam standing in the parking lot with him, weighing his options. He didn't like how the two seemed to hijack his plans, not that he had anything concrete in mind anyway. He was flying with only one target in sight, and that was Fiona. He didn't know anything about Kelly, other than that he and the woman Michael loved were acquainted back in Ireland, he was more volatile than a vial of nitroglycerine, and Fi was afraid of him. All he could see was her and not how to get her out of this mess she'd jumped into, but Sam found a way.

"I still wanna know the details. How is this going to work," Michael asked.

"Let's get an early dinner and talk," Sam suggested as he turned toward an open air cafe with Elsa beside him.

"Sure. Then I'll check out and get home," Michael said, a faraway tone to his voice.

Even Elsa looked at him in concern. She slipped her hand around Sam's arm and watched Michael walk ahead by several steps. Whispering, she said, "Do you think he's going to make it to Miami on his own? I'm worried about him, Sam."

"He'll be fine, baby," Sam replied in a soft voice. "Once he gets his questions answered and wraps his head around what we're planning, he'll be fine."

"We should have brought your friend Jesse along," Elsa said. "Maybe I should ride with Michael and help keep him focused."

Sam turned his full attention to her. "Seriously? You would do that?"

Elsa nodded. "He's your best friend, and he helped save your life. It's the least I can do. Granted, you wouldn't have been in danger if it weren't for him, but that's not the point." She sighed. "For you, I will do this."

Sam kissed her, a brief press of lips saying so much as his hand cradled her cheek. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"Besides, I know you're worried about me flying with that powder keg Kelly on the same plane." She threw him a cocked smile. "Just be careful."

"You know it." Sam smiled. He pulled out a chair for her and she sat, and he settled in beside her.

After they ordered, Michael asked, "Anyone care to tell me what you've got up your sleeves on this one?"

"It's really simple, Mike," Sam answered as he sat back in his chair nursing an iced tea. He was too close to flight time to be drinking anything with alcohol. "We'll load the cargo onto the plane, Kelly, Fi, and I, and I'll fly it and them to Miami. By the time we arrive, you and your team of agents should be at the airstrip in Cutler Bay to take him."

"And Fi walks," Michael said.

"That's up to you, Mikey. How do you wanna play this? At the very least, she's probably looking at being an accessory."

Michael winced. "That would be more jail time."

"Yeah. Not likin' that scenario at all." Sam pulled on his drink. "If we can get Fi to roll over on him before the authorities even get involved, maybe she can come out of this a lot better. You know how good she is at improvising. All it would take is the right words to get her to play."

Michael nodded. "Think you can do that, Sam? Convince her to turn on Kelly?"

Sam held out his hands and gave Michael a wounded look. "Come on, Mike. Think who you're talking to. Don't worry, I know Fi well enough. I don't think it'll take much to get her to, uh, switch allegiances."

"Thank you, Sam. I'm sure Fi will be grateful too, once we get her safely away from him." Michael looked around, scanning the landscape. His food arrived, and he asked the server, "Can I get this to go?"

Her eyebrow rose, but she said, "Certainly, Sir." She took the plate away and soon returned with his sandwich in a styrofoam container.

"Thanks." Michael rose, pulled out a few bills and dropped them onto the table. "I'm going to take off now, get an even better head start."

"Be careful. You know how that road is to Miami," Sam urged him.

"I will." Michael smiled, then his face turned sober. "I just don't want to be seen with you anymore in case Kelly's around. He might get suspicious."

"True enough."

Michael pushed the sunglasses up onto his nose and asked, "By the way, how did you convince Kelly to trust you to help him? He saw you with me."

"Yeah, and I told him you were a major jerk and well, I said enough to make him think I'd crossed over to the dark side, Mikey. Fi was actually kind of helpful that way. I don't know if she was just looking to defuse Kelly or if she has an idea for taking him down..." Sam shrugged. "Beats me."

"Well, thanks anyway, turncoat," Michael spouted as he gave Sam a grin and turned away. "I'll see you all in Cutler Bay."

"You watch, Mike, this'll be one of the easiest catches we've ever made."

After Michael left the table, Elsa requested that the server box up her meal as well. She grabbed it and said, "I'm off to intercept Michael. See you later, Sammy." She kissed his cheek.

"You take care of him, Elsa. Keep him on track if he starts zoning out. Not something I'd expect from him, but you saw it, he's like a blind man wandering around without Fi."

Elsa nodded and blinked at the emotion welling up tears in her eyes. "I'll do what I can. You be careful flying that psycho back to the mainland." She kissed him one more time before hurrying to catch Michael before he left the hotel.

* * *

He sure didn't waste time. Elsa entered the lobby and saw Michael heading for the front desk. She sidled up to him as he signed the receipt to check out, and she said, "Sam asked me to go with you. He's worried about me flying with Fiona and Kelly. So..." She bit her bottom lip, hating herself for telling half truths. "Do you mind if I ride with you?"

He glanced at her sideways. "Sam is worried about you. After some of the spunk I've seen from you, I have to wonder about that."

"He's protective. Like you are of Fiona." She looked him right in the eye when she said it, knowing he couldn't refute that statement.

Michael nodded in agreement. "He's right. I don't like Fi being up in the air with that guy. Sam either, to tell you the truth. But I agree you're much safer on the ground with me, so yeah, let's go." He smiled and guided her toward the door.

The sun was in the west preparing to take its course into sunset. In four hours it would be almost dark, he and his team would have perfect cover, and Thomas Kelly would be in the Agency's hands. They'd been wanting to get him for years. While his capture didn't help Michael's mission, it would go a long way toward bringing Fiona back to him. If she realized the lengths that he would go to in order to save her, maybe she would understand why he did what to her seemed like a major betrayal.

He threw his luggage into the trunk, let Elsa into the car, and drove away from the hotel. As he turned left onto the main street, he saw Sam alone picking up the check. That was the second time, which was a rarity.

Michael cleared his throat and asked, "So, um, Elsa, I hope you don't mind me asking this, but... how does Sam manage to buy dinners lately?" Dear God, I hope she isn't giving him an allowance. I thought they were beyond that.

Elsa smiled and replied, "Since you've been gone, Sam has taken a few odd one-man jobs. He made a nice chunk of change last week when he and I went to Virginia to discuss a possible merger with a smaller hotel there. They were having security issues, and Sam looked into it. Within a few days he had it all worked out and they implemented his recommendations." Her smile widened. "He received a sizable check from the man. We never did come to an agreement on the hotel, but now the guy has fewer security problems and he's filling up beds again."

"So Sam cost you a deal."

"Yes, he did." She smirked. "But the way he did it, I began to understand what it was like for him working with you and Fiona. I admired his panache." Elsa laughed. "However, I told him he's not going on any more of my acquisition trips."

Michael's mouth tipped up into a smile as he chuckled. "We've all got our strengths." The smile faded and he looked wistful in the shadows, his head backlit by the fading sun. "Together, our weaknesses never mattered. We were all strong as a team." He fell silent.

"I'm sorry, Michael. I didn't want to bring up anything that would upset you," Elsa said. She searched his face and saw the sadness in his. She knew he hated working for the CIA. He looked like a slave chained to heavy iron shackles that had no key. "Maybe this bust will help you get your freedom sooner."

His gaze slid to hers, the expression on his face one of supreme doubt. "That would be nice, but I won't put too much hope in it. They'll be done with me when they're done with me. I just wish that Fi could wait."

"That's a tall order," Elsa warned. "It was bad enough waiting for Sam when you all took off and I never knew if I would see him alive again or not. You don't know how heartbreaking it is to wait alone with that fear dangling over your head every day. I tried to live a normal life, but without Sam there, every waking moment felt like I was walking on a minefield. At night, the only way I could go to sleep was to hug his pillow, and now and then I'd splash some of his cologne on it so I wouldn't forget how he smelled." She stopped herself before she lost control of her emotions. Taking a few breaths to calm herself, she said, "I'm sure Fiona has been going through something very similar, Michael. For your information, a woman in love will do that."

"You really think she still loves me after everything I've put her through?" He glanced at her.

Elsa nodded. "The way she eyeballed you when we came upon her in the street, and then when Sam and I found her and Kelly at the docks, I could see it. She loves you, Michael. I don't know what this man did to bewitch her into helping him, but when he's gone and the spell is broken, she'll be ready for you. And if you don't take some time to explain everything and get her to trust that you're coming home again, you're the biggest idiot I've ever known."

He nodded, a slow, languid movement of his head. "You don't have to lecture me, Elsa. I know what I'm going to do and if I have to go rogue for a couple days, I'm going to do it anyway." He turned to her with an impish smile. "I just might need Sam to fly us away somewhere, but I'll make it happen."

Laughing, Elsa assured him. "I think if you gave him the word, Sam would push you two onto the plane himself and take off without asking you where you were going."

Michael felt a weight fall from his shoulders. Elsa put voice to the things that he was thinking. The Agency had been working him to near exhaustion lately, and the least they could do after this big bust was to give him a little time off. If he had to grab it without permission, he didn't care. The only thing that mattered to him was restoring Fiona's trust and regaining her love. For that, he would risk his future.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Kelly called and confirmed the nine o'clock take-off time, but until Sam showed up at the airport and met Fiona and the arms dealer, he refused to believe that it would actually happen. The whole thing was just coming together too easily and made him feel squirrelly, but with Mike in such a desperate state, Sam didn't want to burden him with his misgivings. In the waning light he rolled his and Elsa's luggage toward the concourse and discovered two shadowy figures standing in the parking lot. One of them was Fiona, so he made his way over to them.

"Hey there, I see you're ready to go," Sam said. "I just have to go into the office, confirm my flight plan, and I'll get you access to the tarmac with your vehicle." He glanced at the pickup truck with a truck cap over the bed. Most likely the arms were inside.

"No problem." Kelly jutted his chin toward the sliding gate that led to the airplanes. "I'll drive the truck over there. Fi, coming?"

"Y-Yes, Tommy." Her look was one of resignation and anticipation. She was expecting something to go wrong. Sam could feel it in his gut.

He ignored the creepy crawly sensation and went to take care of business. After signing off on his flight plan, he approached the plane while security allowed Kelly's truck entry to the tarmac area. He parked in such a way that a casual observer looking out from the main building wouldn't see the plane's cargo. Sam unlocked the cabin, trotted up the steps, and opened the undercarriage storage compartment before assisting with the loading.

"What's your payload on this thing again," Kelly asked as he hefted a gun box onto his shoulder and carried it to the compartment.

"About thirty-one hundred pounds. Maybe a little more since there's only three of us on the plane."

"Oh, right. About that. I think we might go over the limit a bit," Kelly declared. "Guess we'll have to lighten the load." He whipped out a gun from behind his back and attempted to aim it at Sam and pulled the trigger.

"No!" Fiona screamed and charged Kelly as the gun went off.

In a split nanosecond, Sam knew his fears were coming true. He reached for the gun and knocked Kelly's hand away before he could fire, then put a vise-like grip on his wrist. He and Kelly struggled to gain control, and Sam threw a fist, slamming it into Kelly's cheek, stunning him long enough to take another punch. Kelly stumbled and fell to the tarmac, but he wasn't unconscious. He aimed at Sam, but the ex-Navy SEAL had a few more surprises for the younger man. He kicked the gun out of Kelly's hand and gave him another boot to the midsection that laid him out flat.

The only sound was that of Sam's short, rapid breathing and Kelly's soft moaning. Sam picked up the gun before he ran up the steps, retrieved some zip ties he kept on board for emergencies like this, and returned to tie up the arms dealer.

"Hey Fi, you wanna help me load this guy up on the plane," Sam asked as he glanced to his right where Fiona lay on the tarmac. "Come on, Fi. I did all the hard work. Help me out here." A cold lump formed in his stomach when he peered into the increasing darkness and saw blood on the concrete. He took three steps and knelt beside her, trying to avoid the puddle. "Oh god, Fi. What happened?"

As he examined her, he found a wound along her side. The bullet discharged from Kelly's gun came down at an angle and grazed her pretty good. As he held off a wave of panic, Sam felt around the wound. It was only a graze, but a severe one at that. If he didn't treat her now, she could bleed out. He returned to the airplane for the medical supplies he kept on board and pressed a thick pad into her side. She groaned and tried to wriggle away.

"No, Fi. Don't do that." He breathed in relief when she stilled, and he worked fast to get her travel ready. Thank God the flight was only a half hour to forty-five minutes long. With Fi bleeding and Kelly sure to wake up, Sam would have his hands full.

Fiona took top priority. He finished binding her wound and carried her aboard, strapped her into a seat, and dropped the medical supplies into the seat beside her. Scrounging around, Sam found a syringe and a small vial of sedative. A little of this, and Kelly was sure to be a good boy all the way to Cutler Bay. Sam drew a small dose of the drug and returned to the tarmac to find Kelly groggy.

"Uh uh, no running away," Sam admonished as he stuck the needle into Kelly's exposed neck. He waited a few seconds for the drug to take effect before hauling the muscular man over his shoulder and carrying him aboard. Sam figured that he wasted at least a half hour dealing with Fi and Kelly and finishing the arms loading. He boarded the plane and the ground crew signaled that he had clearance to leave. Good thing he showed up early, because now he was only about ten minutes late taxiing to the runway.

He could have sworn he heard someone yelling about blood on the tarmac, but Sam was too far away and the engine drowned out a lot of exterior sound. Besides, he had a meeting to get to in about an hour and an injured woman on board. He couldn't afford to be late.

"You're cleared for take-off," the man in the control tower announced when Sam turned the airplane and pointed it eastward.

"Copy," Sam replied, thinking those were some of the best words he'd heard all day. He released the brakes and pushed the throttle, forcing the plane to increase speed as it barreled toward the end of the runway. The wings caught a draft and he pulled back on the stick, feeling a sweet liberation from the earth that always gave him a small thrill. He missed the sight of the ground crew running and yelling for him to abort the take-off. Whether it was by accident or choice, he would never tell.

As soon as he leveled off to his cruising altitude, Sam got on the radio and changed the frequency to match the one he knew that Michael was monitoring. "Black Bomber this is Angel Flight. Do you read?"

"Copy, I read you Angel. We're waiting at the roost," Michael answered.

"Copy. I have a special package, one sleeping Leprechaun bound and ready for presentation." There was a long enough pause that Sam began to wonder if Mike heard him. "BB, do you copy?"

"I copy, Angel. The Leprechaun is packaged?"

"Amen, Brother. That guy isn't going anywhere but a nice secure facility," Sam replied with a laugh. "Long story, I'll tell you when I get back."

"Be careful, Angel Flight."

"I can already see the lights," Sam announced. "I'll be making my descent in about ten." Sam ended the conversation and concentrated on flying the plane. From his altitude he could see a faint line of intermittent lights from the traffic moving along the causeway that linked the Keys with the Florida mainland. To the right, the ocean lay in blackness except for a couple of outlines of vessels that looked big enough to be freighters.

If it weren't for his precarious cargo in the back, Sam would have relaxed and enjoyed the flight. He prayed for the minutes to pass quickly, because he couldn't check on Fi or handle an assault on the off chance Kelly roused and became undone. Scenarios rushed through his head, and none of them were good. When he saw the glow of Miami and the cities surrounding it sparkling like jewels in a crown, he started his descent with relief. He heard thumping in the cabin. Someone was awake. The question was whether it was Fi or Kelly, and he soon heard the man's brogue swearing a whole new vocabulary as he fought against his bonds. Sam smirked.

"Keep your pants on, Kelly. We're almost there!"

"Who are you," Kelly yowled in pain as he continued to fight against he seat belt.

"Sam Axe," he yelled back in reply. "I'm a friend of Michael Westen's."

"You said..."

Sam made a tsking sound. "You should know better than to trust people, pal! Just settle down back there, and we'll be on the ground soon."

While Sam focused on his upcoming approach to the Cutler Bay airstrip, Kelly found a rough piece of metal along the side of the seat. He used it to slice away the zip tie around his wrists. A well hidden folding knife that he pulled from his back pocket served as an excellent tool for freeing his feet. All he needed to do was unlatch the seat belt take a few steps forward, and bury the blade to the hilt into the chest of this man who betrayed him. The belt slipped away and he was free. Kelly rose from his seat and took advantage of the engine noise and the low lights in the cabin to mask his movements.

Fiona heard Kelly cursing Sam, and as her vision cleared, she looked around at the dim cabin interior. Kelly was on his feet moving toward the open cockpit. Sam should have locked that door. What was he thinking? Her side felt as if it was on fire and she remembered the wild shot that ripped at her flesh. But at the moment, that was immaterial. Stopping Kelly from attacking Sam and sending them all crashing to their deaths was foremost in her mind. She unlatched her belt and moved forward, reaching for Kelly's arm as he brought it up over Sam. The knife came down with lightning speed, and Fiona tried to stop it, but the force was too great.

Sam saw the movement and dodged to his left as the blade flashed in the dim light, and as it tore through his bicep he cried out and lost control of the plane. It turned left in a sharp arc that threw Kelly and Fiona off their feet, causing them to collide with Sam and pressing his injured arm that still held onto the yoke. The momentum pushed the stick forward and sent the plane into a nosedive.

"Ahh, Fi, get him off," Sam screamed as he tried to pull the craft out of its death spiral.

Kelly's arms flailed about, still armed, and trying to stab Sam through the heart. Fiona's body screeched in pain, but she gave it everything she had. She leaped onto Kelly and used her weight to tilt him backwards. His entire bodyweight squashed her between him and the floor, and when she made impact the air came out of her in a rush, leaving her gasping for more. At least she got him away from Sam so that he could bring the plane back under some sort of control.

"Fi, you okay," Sam asked.

"I'm fine," she managed to reply between breaths. Kelly continued to squirm above her, but she used her muscular legs to clamp his arms to his sides. That move worked quite well on Michael when she employed it. He would be quite impressed, she was certain. "Why are we still dropping?"

"I... I can't get it to level off, but at least we're not going to drill ourselves into the bay," Sam replied. He grimaced at the pain of pulling on the stick. "Fi, I need your help."

"But I can't hold onto him too!"

"Now, Fi! No time to waste or we go down and we're dead!"

"Alright," Fiona grumbled and let go of Kelly. He panted, trying to get his breath from the boa constrictor-like pressure she'd used on him. It left him incapacitated long enough for her to get up, grab his knife, and ask, "What should I do?"

"Get into that seat," Sam indicated the co-pilot's seat with his head. "And pull with me, Fi. We've gotta level off."

By the time she sat in the seat and grasped the yolk, she saw the digital display showing the altitude. They were at only five hundred seventy feet and dropping, but at least the numbers were slowing. At five fifty-nine, they leveled off and she breathed a sigh of relief. She heard Kelly heaving himself up from the floor and he lunged at Sam again.

"No," Fiona cried and swung around with the knife, getting out of her seat and jamming it into the man's upper right chest.

Kelly gasped as if she'd punctured a balloon, and his body tumbled forward into Sam. "Fi!" The plane took another dive, but Sam shrugged the unconscious man out of the way and leveled off again. "Uhoh, buckle up, Fi. Now!"

She turned to see the ocean rushing at them. Sam did his best to slow them down to make the impact less dangerous while Fiona dropped into the co-pilot's seat and strapped herself in. "Where are we?"

"Does it matter as long as we're still alive after we crash?"

"Crash? We can't crash!"

"Wanna bet?" Sam kept the nose up until the back end of the plane hit the water. The fuselage convulsed when it collided with the surface. The craft lifted a few feet and bounced again before it finally succumbed and skidded to a stop on the waves.

"Oh... my... god..." Fiona breathed.

"We have like maybe five minutes before this thing goes down." Sam unbuckled his seat belt and escaped the cockpit, stepping over Kelly's form on the way to the cabin.

"We can't just leave him here," Fiona said as she followed Sam, holding her aching side with a light grip. Anything more hurt too much, and she was bleeding through the bandages.

"If you're that worried about a guy who just tried to kill both of us, throw a vest on him, sister," Sam barked as he opened a small cabinet and retrieved several. He handed two to her. He threw his over his head and secured it before reaching into the closet, pulling out a small raft, and moving to the exit. "Okay, get ready because once I open this door, all bets of this plane floating go right out that bulkhead."

Fiona nodded and put her vest on, then attached one to Kelly. "I'm ready." She inflated hers before grabbing Kelly under the arms and dragging him to the exit.

Sam opened the door and a wave rolled in, soaking them from head to toe and causing his hold on the raft to loosen. His reflexes kicked in and he held it closer to his body. "Fi, you okay?"

"Yes! Just get that raft out there so we can evacuate!" She noticed that the plane was sinking and the entire floor was under several inches of water already. "Do you need help?"

"No thanks. There's no room anyway." He pulled the ripcord that inflated the raft while holding onto the tether. It filled up with air and bobbed on the undulating water. Sam tied the rope to a small ring near the door. He turned and held out his hand to Fiona. "Come on, Fi, you first!"

"Kelly..."

"I'll get him! Just go!"

Shaking her head at his stubbornness, Fiona passed him and flipped herself into the moving raft. She pulled on the rope to keep some kind of control on it and make it easier for Sam to get Kelly aboard and then escape from the airplane that was dangerously low in the water.

"Hurry, Sam!"

Sam ignored the pain in his bicep. He would worry about it later when they were on land. He used all his strength to pick up Kelly and he passed him out the narrowing doorway that was more like a window now, a window that was closing with each rise and fall of the ocean. Fiona grabbed Kelly's vest and pulled at him just as another wave came and jostled the raft. Kelly's body floated up and got stuck in the door frame. When the wave ebbed, Kelly tried to grab her hands and take her down with him. She screamed and batted him away, and the wave took him under along with the fuselage. Only part of the tail was visible in the light.

The light. Where was that coming from? Fiona's head swiveled around to see a Coast Guard rescue boat coming their way. She cried out in joy and waved her hands in the air. "Help! Help us!" The raft took a sudden nosedive and flipped her into the water before it landed over her head. She sputtered and flailed in a fight to free herself. "Sam! Sam, help!" She felt as if her cries were useless and she was going under. Something pulled at her, taking her down, and she kicked at it.

Someone broke the surface with a large gasp and hands pushed the raft over their heads. "You called, Fi?"

"Oh! Sam!" Fiona had never been so glad to see him in all her life. She paddled over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Are you okay? I thought you went down with the plane!"

"Yeah, well, I did," he responded and with gentle hands peeled her off his body.

"You two, in the water. This is the Coast Guard. We'll have you out of there in no time," a voice boomed over the loudspeaker.

"Two? Where's Kelly," Fiona asked and searched the water around her while she relied on the vest to keep her afloat.

"He didn't make it, Fi. He went down with the ship, so to speak," Sam told her. He grasped the edge of her vest to keep her from drifting or going after Kelly. "Justice is done, thanks to nature."

Fiona looked stricken. Her face was still frozen in that expression when hands reached for her and pulled her onto the boat. Sam propelled himself closer and two sets of strong arms plucked him from the ocean. Sam stood on his feet, his old Navy legs getting their equilibrium as he watched Michael and Fiona reunite. Michael ripped at the vest bindings and pulled it over Fiona's head in one swift movement, and then she was in his arms kissing him. He smiled. He never thought he'd see that again, and it brought warmth to his heart even as he shivered from the cool air.

"Sir, you're injured. Let's take you down below and get you looked at." A seaman tugged on Sam's dripping shirt and urged him to go to the triage area.

"She's hurt too," Sam protested. "Worse than me, even."

"We'll take care of her too," the younger man assured Sam. "We'll be at the base soon, but we'll have plenty of time to look you both over before we arrive. Besides, it looks like she has more important business right now." He cocked a smile at the couple who couldn't seem to get enough of each other.

"You got that right," Sam cracked and followed him to the steps that led below.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Fiona sat alone in a sparse office in the CIA building, staring out the wide window at the ocean sparkling in the morning sunlight. She didn't know why she was here. After the rescue she and Sam were taken to the hospital to be patched up, and she spent the night there, but she was well on the mend now. After she and Michael reunited on the Coast Guard ship and he followed her to the hospital, she hadn't seen him again. It was as if he'd been a dream, a ghost from her past that comforted her in her time of trouble and was gone in a wisp of smoke. She'd learned her lesson from this fiasco, that hanging onto what used to be turned out to be nothing but trouble. While she waited for whatever was to become of her, she drilled that revelation into her head.

Surely she wouldn't come out of this without some charges. Sam knew what she was doing. Michael certainly knew. The evidence was in the submerged airplane and if the government bothered, they could recover it.

Hearing footsteps on the polished floor, she halted her rambling thoughts and turned in expectation. Her ghost was back. She smiled a thin, weak twitch of her lips. "Michael." She swallowed. "It's good to see you again."

The look of tenderness in his eyes belied the professional stoicism in his expression. He walked into the room and sat in the chair beside hers, not on the other side of the desk as she expected. "Fi, I'm sorry I couldn't stay with you after... everything. I got called away."

"Of course. Your job comes first, I understand that."

Something broke in him. She could see it in the wrinkled brow, the crinkles framing his eyes, and the way he leaned across the distance between them and grasped her hands. His grip was firm, but warm, as his thumbs caressed the backs of her hands. "Fi. If it were up to me, we wouldn't be here right now. We'd be out there working on cases with Sam and Jesse, or..." His smile turned wistful. "Or maybe we'd go off on vacation somewhere together." Sniffling, he continued. "I know it's too much to ask, Fi, but can you wait for me? I'm working as fast as I can here to fulfill my obligations to the Agency because I don't feel..."

"Feel what?" She turned her hands palms up and squeezed his. Her eyes bored into his, searching for the truth in what he wanted to say but couldn't seem to get out.

"My heart used to be in this. The Agency was my life. But as I got closer to you, Sam, my mom... I began to see how empty I was." He blinked. "I don't want to be empty anymore, Fi."

His words touched her heart, causing her to sit up straighter in the chair and smile. But she controlled herself. She'd heard words from him before, promises that turned to dust. "How long? I can't wait forever. I'm sorry, but I can't."

"I know. I wouldn't expect you to, and that is why so many times before I tried to push you away. It wasn't fair to you." He took a breath.

"It was my choice to stay, and maybe that was foolish of me, but I love you, Michael. No matter what I always will. It just makes more sense for us, if we love each other, to be together."

The corner of his mouth tipped up. "I agree. If things work out, I could be done in six months, maybe sooner." An excitement glinted in his eyes. "We are so close to bringing down a lot of people who are connected. Of course those people are linked to others that the agency wants, but we get these key players and the rest the young guys can handle." His smile widened. "Then I am truly free, Fiona, and you and I can have our future."

She wanted to believe it so badly. The look in his eyes told her that he believed it too, and he had more faith in them than he'd ever had before. "I can wait for that," she said.

"Good." He squeezed her hands and on impulse lifted one to kiss it. Then he rubbed the spot and said, "I want you to stay at my Ma's until I get out, and then you and I will figure out what we'll do next, where we'll go."

"I want to stay here," Fiona said. "I like it in Miami."

"Me too," he said and laughed. "Seven years ago I was sent here kicking and screaming, but the things that happened changed how I feel about this town. The nightmares from all those years ago are gone, and... and everyone who loves me is right here." He paused and basked in the glow of her happiness. "You just have to promise me something, Fi."

"What?" She looked at him, uncomprehending what could be so important and grave for him to turn serious.

"Don't ever hook up with old boyfriends again."

"You're an old boyfriend," she countered with a slight smirk.

He laughed. "I meant other old boyfriends."

She sobered and said, "You know about Kelly?"

"Yes. I found out last night after my people did some checking on him. Why did you get involved with him again?"

Fiona had to think about that for a moment. He was a piece of her past when she was in the Irish Republican Army. He was unstable and unpredictable, and when he became angry he was unstoppable. He frightened her when he got like that. Yet he had an intense tender side, and when he loved her, he gave her goosebumps. Only one other man could do that to her.

"I missed you so much, Michael. I tried to forget, to get into my old contacts and dealings again as a means to putting the past behind me." She shook her head. "I know it doesn't make much sense to go to the past to take up a new future, but that's what I did. Kelly reached out to me and wanted to be partners." She looked up from their hands into Michael's eyes as she spoke. "He made it hard to resist."

"What, did he flash money, a rare assault rifle, what?"

She licked her lips, hesitating, because Michael wasn't going to like what she had to say. "He... he's a passionate man. Was, a passionate man, I should say." She tossed her head, forcing her locks behind her back and she confessed. "We slept together a couple of times. Michael, I am so sorry. Please believe me." She was near tears. "I made a dreadful load of mistakes, and I can't ever undo them."

"I know, Fi." Michael stood, and he pulled her to her feet before taking her into his arms. "I forgive you." The jealous part of him wanted to hurt her like he hurt at the moment, but they'd done too much of that over the years. The only way to start again was to forgive and move on, and that was what he intended to do.

When her ear rested over his steady heartbeat, she knew that he had truly forgiven her. And she forgave him for leaving things the way he did, but then, it wasn't his fault. He explained it to her. She was the one who chose not to listen and discount everything as an excuse to avoid commitment.

The couple lost track of time standing in the middle of the room holding onto each other. An agent appeared in the doorway. "Sir..."

Fiona didn't see the look Michael gave him. If his eyes had been 50 cal guns, there would have been nothing left of the younger man but a pile of flesh and blood. Seeing the look, the younger man retreated. Michael turned his attention back to Fiona and held her tighter, kissed the top of her head, and burrowed his cheek into the warmth and flowery scent of her hair.

"After I wrap this up with Kelly, I have some time free. A few days, it's not much, but I want to spend it with you." He pulled back and looked into her eyes. "What do you say?"

Her smile spoke for her, but she added words. "I'd love it."

"Good. Pack your bags, Fi. I'll see you in a couple of days." He kissed her, framing her face with his hands, until they were both breathless. With an impish smile he said, "Maybe that'll keep you until then. I want you all to myself."

"I promise you, Michael, there will never be another. Just you." She left a swift kiss on his lips before turning toward the door. She stopped and addressed him over her shoulder. "So, why did you want me here, anyway?"

"I was supposed to talk to you about Kelly. I got enough."

Fiona turned to face him. "And what did you get?"

Michael closed the distance between them as he replied, "He coerced you into working with him. With my pull, I can avoid any charges on your head, and you'll walk free." He took her hand and his curled around it as if he couldn't get enough of the sensation. "We've got people working to recover the plane and the guns. Fortunately, the place where Sam ditched the craft wasn't more than thirty feet deep. It'll be an easy operation. Maybe we'll find Kelly too." He shrugged. "Not that it matters."

"Again, I'm sorry, Michael. I should have not let my desires get in the way of reason. He was a terrible man. I knew that, and I let myself get burned anyway." She looked up at Michael. "I wasn't thinking. But with you, on the other hand, I can be thinking as clear as day and still let myself get tangled in your schemes." She smiled. "Maybe I'm just hopeless."

"I'm different," Michael countered. "You really love me." He smiled at the soft love in her eyes when he spoke the words. "And I love you, Fi. It makes a huge difference." He kissed her one more time before releasing her. "Now, I better get back to work and finish this up so we can take off."

"Take off? Like in an airplane?"

"Perhaps." Michael grinned. "I just know I'm not letting Sam fly us."

Fiona laughed. "Michael, if you'd seen the way he landed on the water without killing us all, you wouldn't say that."

"I was just kidding," Michael said. "I've already talked to Sam, and we're working on something. You'll just have to wait and see."

When Fiona left Michael's office, she felt as if her feet floated on clouds and not concrete. He said he loved her, and he really meant it. She thought back to those first days after she reunited with Kelly. He lacked the honest affection that lay under Michael's words and actions, but somehow when he kissed her she forgot that. He was rough and left marks and bruises, and the act of mating was more like a fight to the death, but it got her blood pumping and all reason went out the window.

Michael was almost boring compared to Kelly. But his tenderness was not a sign of weakness. Rather, it was a sign of the strength of his respect for her. He would never willingly hurt her. Of Kelly, she hadn't been so sure. Considering how he tried to kill her on the plane, she realized the truth. He was an animal, and now he was dead. If she wasn't a lady, she'd spit on the ground and stride away, her anger pounding the pavement under her feet.

Fiona walked from the CIA offices to her car parked almost a block away. As she drifted along thinking about her encounter with Michael, she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. A man appeared in her line of sight backing out of a storefront, and as he turned, she collided with him. She gasped in surprise.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss," he said and reached out a hand to steady her.

He was white-haired, perhaps in his 70s, but he kept himself in good shape. Fiona's eyes drifted up to his face and stopped there, frozen, and she gaped for a moment before coming to her senses and closing her mouth. The man looked like she imagined Sam might appear in twenty years or so. He had the same brown eyes, full brows, and the peaky nose and cheek bones that squared out his face. Even his lips reminded her of Sam, but the chin was less pronounced and more rounded.

"Is there something wrong," he asked, concern filling his features for every second she remained speechless.

"I'm sorry," Fiona managed to speak. "You remind me of... of a friend. You're almost his double, but... but he's younger."

The man's breath sucked in, and he asked, "Are you a friend of Sam Axe?"

Even his voice was a shadow of Sam's. Fiona took a step back and glanced at him from head to toe. No wonder he conjured up images of her friend. He even dressed like him! Blinking behind the shelter of her sunglasses, she replied, "Yes. Sam Axe is a friend. Who are you?"

The smile was scary in how it mirrored Sam's, but it wasn't quite the same. "I'm Sam Axe. Sam's father."

"You didn't happen to be at a fundraiser the other night by any chance?"

He chuckled. "Yes, I was there. I saw Sam, and I couldn't believe my eyes. I wanted to get closer before I said anything to him, but he kind of blended into the crowd. There were a lot of uniforms there that night." He smirked. "I've been trying to find him since. I located his girlfriend's hotel and set up camp there, but no one has seen either of them for a few days."

Fiona's suspicions were up and she looked at him askance. "Why are you spying on your son?"

"I left Sam and his mom over forty years ago on less than ideal terms, and I'm sure he hates me, but..." He paused and he fought a film of wetness that covered his eyes. "I don't know if he'll ever want to speak to me again, but I had to find out. I loved him then, and I still love him, and I wanna know what he's been up to all this time. It's too late to ask his mom."

"I don't think he's been in contact with her for years," Fiona informed him.

"She's been dead for almost three decades," the senior Sam countered with a hint of bitterness. "I never got a chance to tell her how sorry I was, and I decided that I didn't want to make that same mistake with Sam."

"I can understand that." Fiona pursed her lips and nodded. "Listen, I have an idea. Why don't I take you back to the hotel, and I will track down Sam. If you give me a number where I can reach you, I'll call you with a place we can all meet."

"You're going to help me? Why?" He looked at her with doubt.

She dropped the sunglasses from her eyes, looking deep into his eyes as she said, "I've recently had a revelation about love, Mr. Axe, and I can see how you feel about your son. It would be a terrible injustice if you two didn't have a chance to hash out the past and bury your animosities."

"Thank you, Miss. I don't even know your name."

"Fiona Glenanne." She held out her hand and he shook it.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you, Miss Glenanne." To her surprise, he turned her hand and kissed the back. Not like Michael did, but it was very suave and charming as it was.

She couldn't help but smile. "And you, Mr. Axe. I promise, you'll see Sam today. It think I know where I can find him."

"Bless you, Fiona."

"Let's go. My car is right down there," she said and pointed to the little blue Hyundai a few spots away. She knew where to find Sam during this time of day, so her promise would be easy to fulfill. The hotel wasn't far away, but the distance was long enough for her to learn a little about Sam's father, and apparently the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree. She only wished that once she got them together she could stick around. Most likely there would be fur flying, but then who knew. She and Michael made up with little fuss. Perhaps Sam and his dad could do the same.

She parked in the lot rather than take advantage of valet parking. Sam's dad was spry enough to walk, and she wanted the time to figure out how she would tell Sam that his dad was still at the hotel and he wanted to meet him.

"Mr. Axe, what room are you in," Fiona asked as they entered the lobby and she removed her sunglasses.

"I'm in six ten." His voice shook as if nerves had taken over. "You really think you can get Sam to sit down and talk with me?"

"I'll do my best, Mr. Axe." She smiled and patted his arm.

"I really wish you'd call me Sam, but, uh, that might be kind of confusing with the two of us." His chuckle even sounded like the Sam she knew, only more nervous. "You have my number."

"Yes." She tapped a pocket on her bag where she kept her phone. "I'll call you when he's ready to meet. And if you don't hear from me before dinner time, call me."

"I will. Thank you again, Fiona. I don't know how I could do this without you."

"Somehow, I think you would have gotten the courage, especially if you saw him around. He's a good man. I think you'll be proud of him," Fiona said before parting from him. She turned away from the elevator bank and moved to the pool area.

Her eyes scanned the deck for the familiar frame lounging in a chaise, but he wasn't there. She entered the area and walked around the perimeter, her eyes scanning every square foot of the place, but still she didn't see him. This was unusual. She was baffled. On the opposite end of the pool, she spied Elsa in a suit and heels talking to the man behind the bar, so she picked up the pace to meet her there. Her anxiety ramped up and she hoped that Elsa would be agreeable to Sam meeting his father.

"Elsa," Fiona called as the elegant woman turned away to go back to the hotel lobby. "Elsa, wait!"

Elsa stopped and looked over her shoulder, and she showed her surprise at seeing Fiona. "Fi, is there something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. I was just looking for Sam."

"Oh," Elsa said, nodding. "He's upstairs taking a nap. The medication the doctor put him on for that stab wound really did him in." She looked a little embarrassed as she added, "I told him he was trying to do too much this morning."

"Do you think he would be up to meeting his father," Fiona asked.

"He's still here," Elsa asked, eyes wide. "I thought he was being obnoxious when he first arrived. I told my people to keep an eye on him and if he didn't settle down they were to evict him."

Fiona shrugged. "He must have settled down. I ran into him not far from here, gave him a ride back to the hotel, and he wants to see Sam." She hesitated, not sure if Elsa's protective side could be permeated by the last bit of news. "He desperately wants to patch things up with his son. Surely you know what that's like."

Elsa stared at Fiona. She knew exactly how difficult it was for her with Evan. She fought against him and his desires, demanding that he go to college and learn the business. But Evan wasn't built for that, and Sam helped her to see that she was not only spinning her wheels in trying to make Evan do something he had no interest in, she was driving a wedge between them. Only through Sam's unorthodox methods did she and her son come to an understanding, and thanks to his meddling she and her son were closer than ever.

She nodded and declared, "I know he might be mad, but after what he did for Evan and me, I owe Sam. He needs his father back in his life. What do you want me to do?"

"I haven't quite figured out yet how to make this happen. Perhaps we can discuss it?"

"Sure. Let's go to my office." Elsa led the way to a door at the far end of the lobby.

As the women disappeared, Sam Axe Junior was on his way from the penthouse to the ground level. He wore his prime lounging wear, swimming trunks and a matching Hawaiian shirt, with flip-flops on his feet and a towel hanging around his neck. He was ready to get a little tan. The bottle of lotion slipped out of his hand and dropped to the floor as the elevator stopped on the sixth level. An older man dressed in swim trunks and a similar outfit to Sam's got on board, the doors closed, and they began their descent.

Sam straightened after rescuing the bottle from the moving feet and stared into a pair of brown eyes just like his. He gaped, and in a thick voice he said, "Dad."

"Hello, Son. Funny meeting you here," Sam Axe Senior quipped with a cocky smile.

"Yeah," Sam responded with a crooked smirk. "What are the odds?"

"This is a bit... awkward."

The elevator made a strange grinding noise, like metal on metal, and with a sudden jerk the car came to an unplanned stop. At the same time, the lights went out, leaving them in complete darkness unable to see anything before them. Both men staggered to keep their balance, and the younger Sam grabbed the rail along the outer edge. He came back with a snappy reply. "You were saying?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

It seemed as if the darkness swallowed up anything either of them wanted to say, but it was only an excuse for the chasm of time that caused Sam to stand his ground and wait. A dim emergency light flickered to life behind a frosted panel over their heads, and their eyes adjusted.

The Senior Axe cleared his throat and asked, "So, what do we do now?"

Sam was grateful that his father hadn't panicked. He was as cool as could be, as if this was just a minor glitch in his day that would soon rectify itself. Sam looked around and found no way to get out. He hated modern elevators. The designers counted on the people inside waiting for rescue, and he just wasn't that kind of guy. Realizing that he had no choice, Sam reached for the small door under the control panel and retrieved the phone receiver inside.

"Yeah, we're stuck in the elevator, I think between the fourth and third floors... the Darabant Hotel... no, nobody's injured. It's just a little stuffy in here, and there's two of us, so we'd like to get out of here ASAP, okay?" With a sigh, Sam hung up the phone and announced. "They're working on it." The elder man chuckled, crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall, irritating Sam. "What's so funny?"

"You, Sammy. You can't stand to be stuck in an elevator with me. Do you really hate me that much?"

"There are plenty other people I'd hate being stuck with even more. You don't even make the top ten, so don't get all giddy about it." He sighed again and slid down the wall to sit on the floor. "Might as well make ourselves comfortable. It'll be awhile if the Miami Fire Department has to come rescue us."

"Hopefully it'll just be an electrical issue that's easily resolved and we'll be moving again soon," Axe the Senior offered. He stood for a few minutes still leaning against the wall, but as the silence deepened and the stuffiness in the car rose, he decided it was best to join his son on the floor. "Until this incident, I was ready to give your wife five stars for her hotel."

"She's not my wife, Dad. Not yet anyway."

"Oh yes, that's right. I forgot about that. Whatever happened to what's her name? Amanda?"

The name was like a burr under Sam's skin. Too much pain and heartache associated with it led him into too many beers and mojitos, even after everything had been tied up in a neat bow and he was through with her.

"I'd rather not talk about her," Sam ground out as he stretched one leg out and rested his arm on a knee. He tilted his head back against the panel wall. "'Cause then we'd have to talk about you and Mom. Care to have that conversation?" He smirked at his father, and when there was no quick answer, he said, "I didn't think so. Don't mess with me, or you will be sorry."

Axe the Senior released a long, heavy sigh. This wasn't going at all like he hoped. First of all, he didn't plan on being trapped with his son in an elevator. Second, he didn't intend to incite him with the memory of his ex-wife. He only saw the end of the tunnel where they reunited and forgave all those years, but the execution of how to get there had been murky all this time. Maybe he avoided pondering it because he knew all along that the guilt was on his shoulders to confess. Sam had good reason to be angry with him, because he was an innocent victim along with his mother.

"Son... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up. I mean, it's not like what I did. From what I understand, Amanda left you. I abandoned your mother and you." He paused when Sam's eyes slid up to study him. "I loved you both, but I was selfish and thought I found something better."

"So you ran off, dumped us like trash, and wiped your hands clean of us," Sam responded, the long-delayed pain coursing through his center and seeming to leak through every pore as he began to sweat in the warm confines. "Was she worth it?"

"No. She dumped me within six months." Sam Senior expelled a breath. "It was too late to go home then. I paid dearly for my mistake."

"Oh boohoo, you weren't the one left behind," Sam snapped. "You weren't the one who had to get a part time job and go to school to help Mom because that paltry alimony you gave her, that filthy blood money, wasn't enough to get us through." Sam felt like a cork had popped, and everything burst out of him without abandon. He wanted his father to know exactly what he'd done to his family by deserting them.

"She could have asked for more," he offered.

"She was too ashamed, constantly asking what she did wrong. Everyone thought you guys had the perfect marriage and then all of a sudden it was over. All her friends were stunned. She stopped seeing them because every time she'd go to the card parties they'd sit and talk about it. They might as well have slashed her with a knife, because that's how much it hurt. Every time." Sam paused, attempting to regain his composure with a swipe of his hand over his face.

"I didn't know."

"No, you didn't because you never bothered to find out," Sam retorted with a rising voice. "We struggled, Mom isolated herself, and I worked my ass off going to school, working, and playing football. You know... of course you wouldn't... I almost gave up football because you were always so proud of me, and I didn't want that. I didn't want to do anything that would make you happy." He swallowed. "But I didn't let myself fall into that trap, like Mom. I played for me, because I knew I had an opportunity to go to college and be something a hell of a lot better than my old man."

Tears stung the back of Sam's eyes. He rested his head against the wall again and waited for the memories to retreat to the recess where he'd kept them barricaded all his life. He half expected his father to say something to defend himself, but silence rained down on them.

Finally, his father spoke. "I don't blame you for being angry, Son. I readily admit that leaving your mother was wrong and selfish, and I understand that it hurt both of you deeply. I just... I just don't know what to say to alleviate some of the pain."

"There's nothing you can do. What's done is done." Sam turned his head to examine the panel housing the phone. It seemed like hours had passed. Where was the rescue they needed? He snorted. "Waiting for help is kind of a funny metaphor for what happened with Mom and me. You left us floundering, trying to figure out how to make it, to save ourselves. Like we sit now, trying to figure out how to save ourselves from this, whatever it is. Only we can't. Like Mom and I, we couldn't get out. Sure, my income helped, but things were really lean."

"I..."

Sam held up a hand to stop him. "Thank God I earned that scholarship. After I got out of school and joined the Navy, I sent home what I could." The corner of his mouth tipped up. "When I became a SEAL and got extra hazard pay, I'd send that home. She was always grateful but always worried about my safety because I was all she had." The memories began to close up his throat, but he managed to speak despite the obstacle. "Then she got sick, and I was half way around the world in the middle of a mission that I couldn't just drop and be there before she passed. I guess I just ran away and abandoned her, like you did us."

"Sammy, all children grow up and leave eventually. You can't blame yourself for not being there for her all the time. You had a life to live, a career..."

"I could have gone to school closer to home and done something else. I could have earned a degree that would have gotten me a job close to home. Only I didn't. I thought about myself and what I wanted." Sam let out a breath. "Thanks for teaching me that lesson, Dad."

The words stuck into the senior Axe like shards of broken glass, and he winced at the delivery. "I'm sorry. That's all I can say. If I could go back and change how your life turned out I would, but I can't do that."

"I know." Sam sounded defeated, as if emptying his soul of all the hurt and anger had drained him. It felt good to get it off his chest finally. But in the end it didn't change anything. Maybe it took a burden off of him, but that was about it.

"I suppose my example also had something to do with your womanizing ways," his father said.

"How do you know so much about me," Sam asked, his voice on edge.

Smiling, the older man replied, "Believe it or not, I've kept track of you all these years. I followed your successes on the football field. I was so happy for you when you got that scholarship and graduated. I envied you, even, because you had a world of opportunities that I could only dream of." He shifted his position and sat away from the wall and a little closer to Sam. "It was a lot more difficult to keep tabs on you when you were in the Navy, especially when you were on the SEAL team, but I moved to Washington for work and made some friends who knew things. They kept it on the down-low and didn't give me many details, but at least I knew you were doing honorable things." He sighed. "That's where you're different from me."

"Not everything I did was honorable, Dad."

"I'm sure. Like the women..."

"Oh please, don't start with that. It's not like you're innocent in that regard." Sam snorted and gathered up his legs, bringing them close, prepared to stand his ground if necessary.

"Neither of us is. Sammy, after I left your mother and Rachelle left me, I wasted a lot of time and money on women and drinking." He lowered his head, then got up the courage to look Sam in the eyes. "I feel most responsible for that. I not only hurt you, I showed you a bad example of how a man treats a woman. I wasn't looking for love, just a good time, and I left behind a lot of broken hearts. I'm not proud of that and I doubt you are in your case, either."

"It wasn't just about using women. Not for me, anyway." Sam tried not to think about it, but now it was in the open and he had to come clean. "I was honestly looking for love. Mom loved me, but after you left, there was a tiny wedge between us. I didn't even know what it was, I just knew that she'd distanced herself a little. I tried so hard to please her, to make her love me like she used to, but she was incapable. Maybe it was her way of coping. I don't know." He blinked, afraid he would start crying in front of his father. He couldn't, wouldn't, do that. He'd exposed himself enough.

"So you were looking for the devotion that you missed," the older man deduced and nodded. "That makes sense, since you've obviously found what you were looking for at long last."

"Yes. I was looking for love and security. That's why I picked rich women, but they were divorced or widowed. Whenever I found one who was married, I thought of Mom and broke it off right away." He swept away another bad memory from his mind. "Elsa and I started out, and it was crazy. At the time I was just looking for someone who could help me blow off some steam. I wasn't looking for commitment. She was obscenely rich, widowed, and had a voracious appetite for..." He cleared his throat.

His father chuckled. "No explanation necessary. So you fell into bed with her and took advantage of everything she had to offer. Been there, done that."

"Yeah. She called me her 'Boy Toy', and I called her 'Big Momma'," Sam continued. "But somewhere along the line, when she started helping me and my friends bankroll some of the things we were doing, I got her into the loop of what as going on, and our relationship changed. I started trusting her more than I've trusted any of the others, and she opened up to me. It was a beautiful thing." His narrative ended on a whisper.

"You fell in love for real this time?"

Sam nodded, and his voice softened. The hostility from earlier was gone, and instead he dwelt on the goodness of Elsa and her love. He talked about her and how much she meant to him, how he sometimes held her through his sleepless night because he was afraid she would disappear. He revealed how he almost lost her several times, and how on one mission he'd almost died without her ever knowing how he felt.

"When I was zip tied to that pole and Rebecca was looking for a way out, I didn't think I was making that trip with her. I thought she was done with me and she'd kill me. So I called Elsa. If Rebecca found out, she would probably kill me for sure, but I had to take the chance. I got Elsa's voicemail and left a message, and I prayed that I would get another opportunity to tell her I loved her to her face."

After Sam spent himself telling his story about Elsa and him, he sat hugging his knees and sweating. They'd been there long enough for the heat inside the car to become almost unbearable.

"That's a beautiful story, Sammy. And I'm glad that you've finally found the right woman. Now if only I could be so lucky."

The corner of Sam's mouth twitched up as he said, "You're in the right state, Dad. Lots of single old ladies around here."

His father laughed, his baritone booming in the small space. "I only came down here to see you." He sobered and continued. "I couldn't live with myself anymore, knowing how much I'd hurt you, and now I realize that the damage was much worse than I suspected. But you're healing, and I want to do the same. If you'll let me."

"I don't understand. What can I do for you?" Sam stared at him.

"Be my son again."

Such a simple request on the surface, but with so many painful undercurrents, it might not be so easy. "Why?"

"Because maybe a part of you might miss our relationship?" The old man's eyebrow rose along with a hopeful smile.

"I'll have to think about it," Sam replied.

"I know it'll be different. This time I won't have to get on you for taking the five-fingered discount on that Red Ryder gun."

Despite himself, Sam let out a soft chuckle. "Don't worry, Dad, I've perfected stealth. But I only do it when necessary."

Laughing, the older man said, "I'll bet you could teach me a few things with you and your friends doing all those spy things."

"Yeah. Speaking of, I think it's time I try to call Mike. Obviously we're not getting any help from out there." He picked his phone from his pocket. "Oh good, I'm getting some bars." He hit the speed dial and waited. "Hey, Mikey, it's me... yeah, I'm fine, my Dad is fine." He listened a moment and chuckled. "Yeah, of all the dumb luck, we wind up stuck on an elevator together, but, uh, it's not so bad." He glanced at his father as he reported, "We managed to clear some air a bit. But it's getting too damn stuffy in here, and if someone doesn't rescue us soon, I don't know what's gonna happen."

After a little exchange, Sam hung up and put the phone back into his pocket. His father, anxious for some good news, asked, "Well? What did your friend say?"

"This is more than just a mechanical failure," Sam replied. "The motor that runs the pulley system is on fire, so they're concentrating on getting that out before they try to rescue us."

"But... but won't we fall?" Fear was in the senior Axe's eyes.

"There are brakes on this thing, so as long as those don't fail, we'll be fine. Mike told me that the car is between the second and third floors, not the third and fourth, so if we do fall, it won't be that catastrophic."

"Oh, that makes me feel a lot better."

Sam snorted. "Well, now you know what my life is like a good part of the time. At least when I'm working with Michael Westen."

After another hour, the two men heard noises coming from above the elevator car. Muffled voices mixed with banging and clanging. Then one voice came through loud but echoing in the shaft.

"Sam? Sam, it's Michael. The fire department is here and they're working to get you out. Just sit tight both of you and they should have this done soon."

In response, Sam banged a fist twice on the side of the car, and the sound rumbled up the shaft. He got to his feet and smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt. "Well, this is it. They'll have us out soon."

"Yes." His father stood beside him, his eyes even with his son's but slightly below. "What happens after this?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm really ready for that swim. Then we'll all go to Carlito's for some drinks and dinner, and just enjoy freedom." He smiled in pleasure. It dimmed a shade when he turned to his father and asked, "Would you like to join us?"

"I don't want to intrude."

Sam shook his head. "It wouldn't be an intrusion. If you want to be a part of my life again, meeting my friends and hanging out with them is a pre-requisite. You're better off finding out now if you can't handle them."

His father laughed and smiled, the first warm expression he'd shown his son in years. He braved placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Is it presumptuous of me to think that this means I'm forgiven?"

"I don't know if you're quite forgiven yet. I'm working on it, though." Sam's eyes crinkled with a thin smile. "Let's see how it goes."

"Sounds like a good idea to me." His grip on Sam's shoulder tightened as the floor appeared to drop out from under them and they left their stomachs between the third and second floors. "Sammy!"

"Hang on!" Sam dropped to the floor and held onto the rail, and his father did the same on the opposite side of the car.

Metal screeched as the emergency brakes kicked in and the momentum slowed. It didn't stop, however, until the car landed at the bottom of the shaft with a deafening bang that shook it and the occupants. The aftershock caused Sam Senior to bash his head against the flat wide rail. The lights were out again and the two sat in pitch blackness.

Breathing heavy, Sam asked, "Dad, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah, just knocked my noggin a bit. What about you?"

Sam shifted and stood. "I'm fine. We must be at the bottom." He felt along the wall until he found the doors. He tried to pry them open. "Crap, these doors are really stuck. Mind helping me?"

"No problem." He stood and used his hands and the sound of his son's voice to find the door. He touched Sam's back, then slipped to his left. "Okay, I'm here. Let's do this."

The men wedged their fingers into the narrow seam between the doors and each pulled a door away from the other. It took a lot of strength, but they managed to pull them apart. "We did it, Son!"

"Yeah, but there's another door here, and we're below it by a few feet. It's going to take some leverage to get them open."

"How about if we can loosen one of these rails, we stick that in between the doors and pry them open?" Instead of being afraid, the elder Axe felt a rush of excitement as he worked through this problem with his son. He had a feeling this was old hat to Sam, but for him, it was a novelty.

"The metal is probably too soft, and we might do more damage to it trying to rip it off the wall. Let me think a minute." A few seconds later he snapped his fingers. "We can still try to use one of the rails, only if we can reach the mechanism that opens the doors. If we push on it just right, it might open."

"Sam?"

"It's Mike again." Sam addressed his friend, "Yeah, Mike, we're okay! We've got the car door open, but the door on your end is still closed."

"Yeah, they're working on that. Just hang on."

Light streamed through the three foot gap between the floor and the top of the open elevator car door when the rescuers pried open the outer doors The men inside shielded their eyes from its brightness, although it was only from the fluorescent lights in the maintenance hallway in the basement.

"It's great to see you, Sam," Michael grinned and held out a hand.

"You too, Mikey. Hey, why don't you go first, Dad. I'll help from here." He bent at the waist and created a step with his two hands. "Come on. Mike'll get you from above."

"Thank you, Son." He stepped into Sam's hands and grabbed onto the floor above to pull himself up. Michael grabbed onto him and assisted him in threading his body through the narrow exit.

Sam gripped the floor and used the railing to help boost himself out of the car. Michael pulled on him and helped him to his feet. Maintenance and rescue personnel stood nearby discussing the accident and looking for a cause for the brake failure, but the three men were oblivious. Michael looked Sam in the eye and on an impulse took him into his arms and hugged him.

"When Fi called me and told me you were stuck in the elevator and there was no good way out, I came right over. I was hoping we could avoid this." He swept a hand across the scene. "Why didn't you try to get out?"

"I wanted to, but... well, Dad and I wound up having an interesting discussion," Sam answered with a smile. "Mikey, this is my Dad, Sam Axe Senior. Dad, this is my best friend Michael Westen."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Michael." He gave Sam a sidelong glance. "So this is the fella who's gotten you into so much trouble over the years, huh Sammy?"

Laughing, Sam replied, "I've gotten myself into plenty of trouble without his help. But yeah, this is the guy." He looked around and asked, "Where are Fi and Elsa?"

"In the lobby. I told Elsa to stay up there because I didn't want her to have to see if things went bad. Fiona stayed with her even though she wanted to come down here and help."

A warm, satisfied smile stretched across Sam's face. "Good old Fi. She's another person I can can always count on." The smile wiped away when he realized what he was implying, and even if it had been true, hopefully things would be different now between him and his father. "Say, why don't we just go to Carlito's now and skip the pool?"

"You want to go to Carlito's," Michael asked. "You almost got killed, and you want to go drink."

"What better time, Michael," Sam Senior exclaimed. "We've gotta celebrate surviving, and Sammy and I still have a lot of catching up to do." His eyes lit on his son's. "A lot of years to review and get over, so we can start again."

"That's right," Sam agreed. "So let's go. Good thing we're not underdressed, because I don't know about you, Dad, but I'm not exactly eager to go up the elevator just to change."

"Me neither, Sammy." He grinned at Michael. "Well, let's go. I'm eager to meet your girlfriend and get to know all of you."

Michael gave Sam a look as his father led the way to the stairs that would take them to the lobby. Sam shrugged and by his expression told Michael that something miraculous happened in that elevator. The two men didn't just survive. All the years of animosity were peeling away, leaving something shiny and new behind. Michael smiled and clamped a hand on his friend's shoulder. He was glad that Sam had this golden opportunity, because he would never be so lucky.

The last thing Michael's father said to him was, "I'll see you in hell, boy." Michael hoped that some day he would meet him again, only in some place a little more pleasant. Until then, he would do his best to help Sam and his father restore their relationship so that all those years ago would disappear and become meaningless.

_Thank you to everyone who was patient with me. Sorry it took so long to finish; that's not normally how I work. As I was writing this story, it started going in a direction I didn't want it to go, but I couldn't figure out how to fix it. A month away put me on a different direction, and I hope that the end result was worth the wait!_


End file.
